~-* Chapter Four: Man And Wife *-~


He never dreamed pleasantly – his dreams were tangled, horrible things full of deep shadows and tearful green eyes. He never remembered Lilly laughing, smiling, touching his hair, in his dreams – just looking at him hatefully, her chest heaving with pain. He never remembered her musical, beautiful laugh, just the way she killed him every time she held James's hand. And he would wake up, sweating, hot, dry draughts of air scorching his throat and the unshed tears searing his chest. But today, there had been no dreams – he had made sure of that. A Dreamless Sleep Potion had taken care of his memories the night before, a quick mix that had shorn off any remnants of Lilly. He sat up in bed, the sheets tangled around his legs, and kneaded his eyes with his hands, slapping the sleep out of his face. Waking slowly was a luxury he hadn't attained for the past three decades; it was always a quick, bitter start which woke him, had his fingers grabbing for his wand, ready to duel. And now his training had him glued to this lifestyle, so he always woke with his heart hammering and his hand reaching for the pillow.

A quick search through his closet resulted in nothing – black trousers, black vests, black coats. He always wore black. But way in the back, there was a white dress shirt he only wore when forced, and with a gritting of his teeth, he pulled it off the hanger. Grumbling to himself, he buttoned it, snatching a pair of trousers off the shelf, and tucking the tail in. He was getting married – married! Him! Severus Snape! He had wrestled with himself for three days, and then finally began slowly rearranging his apartment. The flat above his potion shop was cramped and the ceilings were slanted, giving everything a claustrophobic feeling, but he still managed to shuffle around his sparse belongings. He didn't travel often, but he didn't own much anyway. He had Conjured two extra pillows and dug up a spare set of silverware, however, to be polite. Running his hands through his hair, Severus yanked on a black vest and looked at himself in the mirror.

He wasn't handsome. He knew that – years of whoring himself to both sides, to spilling lies from his lips, to murdering in cold blood, torturing occasionally – it had all aged him. No gray flecked his dark hair, but the lines around his eyes were deeper than a man should have for his age. His nose seemed to grow larger every day, more hooked, and his skin always seemed to be pale, no matter how much sun he got. When he was waxing poetic and feeling ironic, he wondered about the mirror image of himself. Was his twin cheerful and funny, bright and witty, while he was dour and sarcastic, bitter and cruel? But he usually dismissed these feelings to sentiment and dispelled them easily. Growling to himself, he finished buttoning his vest and slipped his wand into his sleeve.

The idea of getting married made him frustrated and slightly frightened, if he were truly honest. His life was his work, and his work was his life – he barely made enough time to eat and sleep. Churning out potions in a never ending assembly line dampened his senses, dulled the sharp swords of his past which still cut against him whenever he saw green eyes. He didn't want to drag another person – another woman, no less – into his life. He didn't want to work with anyone, didn't want to get married, for Merlin's sake. Although, he admitted, she was sharp. Quick, too, with that damned outfit. She had outsmarted him at the Three Broomsticks, that was certain; and Severus wasn't outsmarted easily. He had underestimated her, and he never underestimated things. If anything, he overestimated them. Overkill was underrated, in his opinion, but everything about this Sarah Gother threw him.

She was cold and innocent, that much was certain. The most confusing combination ever to meet in a small, blonde woman, he mused. Ashamed of her innocence, she clutched it to her breast and created up an icy mask to cover herself. It was a talent not many possessed, he decided, a talent which could be honed into a very particular skill that would be valuable to the right person. She still lived with her parents, the stupid woman. He reflected back to her paper, and then tried to remember her occupation. A writer of some sort. Ah, yes, a columnist for the Daily Prophet. Probably the author of some trash gossip column, something like Ask The Housewitch or something along those lines. But he was tired of thinking about her; it was bad enough he was going to be married to her for the foreseeable future. He had spent almost the entire week nagging himself about her, running over her actions in his mind, and he was sick of it. Sick of her.

He gripped his wand between his fingers and focused on where he wanted to go. There was a loud crack, and he disappeared.


She was waiting for him outside of the Clerking Office, dressed in an outfit which seemed relatively normal. It was nothing like the attention getting green dress she had worn so famously, but it was tasteful and accomplished. A crisp white dress shirt was hanging in loose, cool folds, untucked at her waist, and a crimson vest had been buttoned across her chest. Surprisingly, she was wearing a pair of dark trousers – considering he had only seen her in a skirt and a dress, he figured her wardrobe was nothing if not wide. She had her back to him, and he saw her short-cropped blonde hair was once more smooth and sleek instead of spiked and windblown. She was digging for something in her purse, which was – once again – the large black bag which she had clutched so possessively the first time he had met her. Her glasses were different – they had thicker lenses, giving her a bookish, slightly off-putting look. When he approached her, clearing his throat coldly, she turned, and he saw her icy silver eyes had taken on the exact color of thawed snow and had the warmth of an iceberg in the artic. He arched an eyebrow and felt a sneer curve his lips. "I see you've dispensed with the call-girl outfit," He noted, and her wintery eyes dropped another ten degrees.

"My mother wanted me to wear something less feminine," She responded icily. "And if you're quite finished with insulting me, we can get this over with."

"Oh? What happened to 'darling'?" Severus mocked, opening the door for her automatically. She shot him a wary look, and he realized what he was doing after the fact was done. She marched through the open door with her nose in the air, as if men were actually chivalrous and opened doors for her every day.

"That was for show. I highly doubt there are any reporters trailing me at the moment, seeing as it's Wednesday and they're just leaving their offices at this hour." She retorted. The two of them closed the door behind them, and blinked as they paused in their bickering, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dim gloom.

After years of skulking around in shadows, Severus's eyesight was a good deal sharper than hers, and when the long, elastic shadows settled, he was able to see the mounds of clutter. There were stacks of papers on the floors, some of them clean and new, others yellowed with age. Scrolls of parchment were stuffed into cubbyholes behind the thin, ancient desk, and the floors were so worn they were almost gray. An old man, his face heavily lined and covered in gray stubble, was seated behind the desk, a quill in hand, looking at them expectantly. A dim yellow glow from a light above his head created a circle of faded illumination, and the shadows grinned wolfishly from the unlit corners. To his left was a short, unsmiling man with chestnut hair and shifty eyes, dark smudges beneath them. He wore blue Ministry robes, with a small brass pin lettered with MC. He rubbed his temples and then made a check mark on his page; afterwards, he leaned back in his chair and prepared for a nap. "Ah, yes, Miss Gother," The older man said, his voice as creaky and dusty as the chair he was sitting on. "We've been expecting you."

"Thank you, Mr. Doppler," Sarah said tightly, and she drew unexpectedly closer to Severus. It was an unconscious gesture, one which went unnoticed by Sarah but observed sharply by Severus. He smirked. She was uncomfortable in foreign situations. That was nice to know. "Are you ready to begin the ceremony?" She asked, her voice slightly thinner and higher than usual.

"Of course, of course," He said wheezily, and flicked a knotted gray wand which looked like his floors. A dusty scroll floated off the shelves and fell tiredly to his desk top, unrolling wearily as it did so. Severus and Sarah came closer, and Mr. Doppler passed over the quill. "Sign your full name here, please," He said, and Sarah scrawled a quick Sarah Anne Gother across the line, then passed it to Severus, who added a terse, spiky Severus Tobias Snape beneath it. "And now, join hands, please, for the next part of the ceremony," The old man rasped.

There was a short, doubtful look passed between the two of them, and then Severus offered his hand, palm up, with an expression of distaste. She lay her hand on top of his and the two somehow managed to hold hands with the barest minimum of skin touching. But despite all this, she could help but notice that he has such long, agile fingers, clean to the quick despite his constant usage of staining potion ingredients. And Severus noticed that her fingers were stained with ink in at least six different places, and she had a slight callous on the inside of her left index finger, most likely from gripping a quill. Their observances were radically different – hers for aesthetic value, his for probing into her life – but somehow, they were both so distracted they didn't notice the golden thread winding between their fingers. Severus noticed it first, and he gave a barely perceptible start which caused Sarah to look down as well, and she swallowed a lump down her throat. The Ministry Official was looking at them very curiously, his curly hair falling into his eyes and shrouding out the emotion in them.

"And now, you will kiss the bride," The old man intoned solemnly, looking at them quite seriously beneath his bushy brows. Sarah made a little noise of question in the back of her throat, and Severus raised his eyebrows.

"Is that really necessary?" Severus growled, his body tensing at the idea of such contact.

"Yes! It is necessary for the completion of the incantation!" Mr. Doppler said, quite agitated Ministry Official rumpled his hair and spoke for the first time, sounding languid and sleepy.

"Really, you two, it's just a kiss. Get it over with." He said lazily. Severus and Sarah exchanges another glance, and Severus saw Sarah was just as displeased about this as he was. She also seemed – frightened? Yes, scared. Of him. Perfect, he thought savagely, Just bloody perfect.

She got tired of his indecision, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. It was quick, chaste, and he barely had time to realize what she was doing before she did it. And as he lips met his in the briefest – and possibly the most annoyed – kiss in existence, the golden threads around their hands glowed white hot. There was a shower of sparks, and then they broke apart, rubbing their hands and wrists. Sarah shot him a very dirty look as though it were all his fault, and Severus gave an equally irked glare to her for kissing him. This was not going to be a very happy marriage, he realized dully, and looked at the Ministry Official. "May we leave yet?" He asked impatiently, and the Ministry Official checked over his notes.

"Ah, one more thing," The man said, and shuffled around in his pocket for a moment. "Professor Snape, will you put this on her finger? It has to be you, otherwise the charm won't work," The Official said, offering a small, sleek, modern gold band with a slight twist in the middle. With an unpleasant twist in his lips not unlike the one of the ring, he reluctantly took her hand in his and slid the ring onto her finger. "Excellent. Now, because it's come to our attention that the Professor can't wear his ring on his finger at all times, he's required to wear this chain." The man said, handing her a slightly thicker, smoother ring on a long chain. She stood on tiptoe again just so she could put the chain around his neck, and Severus inclined his head slightly to aid her. She shot him a cold look, but either by design or accident, the heels of her hands brushed his long hair. She gave him an unfathomable look, and then turned to the chestnut haired Official. "I believe that's all," The Official said, bored. "I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Snape."

There was a slight rippling shimmer, rather like an electric shock – but Severus couldn't know that – which traveled up their bodies from their rings. Sarah shuddered, running the lines of her nails down her arm to scratch the itch, but she noticed Severus made no move. He's trained to handle discomfort, she realized with growing nausea. And pain. I'm going to be sharing a bed with a man who has an exceptionally high tolerance for pain? Oh, brother.

"Now, if you attempt to remove these rings in any manner, the Ministry will know right away and you'll be summoned to the Ministry for a hearing. The rings will then be permanently attached to your fingers, but at the moment, we're willing to give you the benefit of the doubt," The man said with a tight smile. "These rings also render any Charm, Curse, or Potion which would halt the process of coitus in any fashion, and they will also deactivate any potions which would keep the female in an infertile state."

This entire speech was delivered blandly and distastefully, with Sarah's jaw dropping a little lower with each word. Severus felt her shock and fear, saw her fright in the hard line of her shoulders, and almost wished he could comfort her. She wanted a career, and he wanted a lift. This law was unjust, animalistic, and bestial. He was sure it would be repealed, but not in two days. Because in two days, it would be Friday, and he had no fucking idea what he was going to do when Friday night rolled around.

His thoughts were interrupted by Sarah turning on her heel abruptly and heading for the door. She tried to slam it behind her, but his foot got in the way, and he slipped through the crack, following her. Her hands were stuffed into her pockets, and she was walking very fast up the street with no particular destination in mind. Her cheeks were dry but her silver eyes were wet, and when he caught up with her, she was snarling an absolutely unprintable list of the filthiest obscenities he had heard in his life. When she reached the corner, near Flourish and Blotts, she turned on him suddenly. "That was fucking rubbish!" She seethed.

"I know." He said simply.

That shut her up, at least for the time being. Having someone agree with her, even an older man she would be forced to sleep with in forty eight hours time, calmed her slightly. She looked up at him, and then folded her arms. "I have my things in my bag. Where's your flat?"

Wordlessly, he took her elbow in his hand and Disapparated with a crack.


A/N: I am back from VK. Enjoy this chapter, sorry for the messy emotions and slight profanity. But this is an M rated fic. What you see is what you get.

Sailor Dreamer95: Fairly close assumption! And yes, when Sarah gets mad, she gets mad. Luckily, she doesn't get mad often, otherwise there would be an awful lot of people hanging from places in women's underwear...

0oBelllianna0o: Actually, I feel that this fiction is garnering quite a bit of attention! I'm really pleased with all the reviews I'm getting, but, as always, I keep asking for them! I'm glad you like Sarah's character, she's extremely fun to write. Almost as fun as writing Severus, really – they're so similar, it's a little eerie. But that's the whole point of the story: people who should be perfect for each other on paper might not be so perfect for each other in real life. Well, I hope you continue to read this story, and I hope you continue to enjoy it!

DragonQuill6913: Lol! Suspenseful, funny. I don't see it as suspenseful, but then again, I know how the story is going to end. And you don't. (Wee bit of gloating here). And as for who will explode first, who do you think? xD Severus, or Sarah?

butterflyninja935: Gack! Why are you sniffing around my M rated fanfiction then, eh? Mature middle schooler indeed...You're about the same age as my daughter Alex, and if I knew she was reading my smut stories, oooh, she'd be in for a whuppin'. Stay on Fellowship of the Authors and Well Behaved Women, okay, hon? Don't go snooping around here yet. Wait about...ten years. No, wait. Twenty. xD

ShelleySnape: Oddly enough, I adored those last three lines as well. They were the most fun thing to write, and seemed so fitting for Severus. And yes, I peeked at your story – it seems good, but you could add more description. Also, I think the first chapter could be slightly restructured – dumping all of that info on the reader in the first chapter about Clara's past could afford to be branched out over time. Just my thoughts. I've been called senile before, so don't worry. xD Also, I love your portrayal of Severus – he's spot on, something I'm sort of missing out on in this fiction. I think I need to go read more good Sev/OC stories to keep me hitting the target.

R Unworldly: Glad. You. Do! xD