"What's taking so long?" Ron Weasley pulled aside the curtain once again to peek at the quiet street beyond. He, Harry, Ginny, and the twins were playing Exploding Snap in the Library, but he kept losing because his mind wasn't on the game.

"So long for what?" Ginny asked absentmindedly as she reached for a card.

"For Hermione to get back. Weddings don't take this long, do they?" the sun was setting somewhere out of view. Golden light mixed with a greenish twilight in what he could see of the sky. It cast an eerie orange-ish glow on the street below.

Ginny snorted, looking up at him. "You don't expect Snape to bring her here for the uh… honeymoon, do you?"

The idea was so preposterous that Ron whipped around to gawk at his little sister. "Honeymoon? What are you on about?"

"Come on Ronikins," said Fred.

"We've been over this," agreed George.

"When a Mommy Witch and a Daddy Wizard are forced into a Ministry-run Mating Program…"

"I know what a honeymoon is! I meant… hang on. Did you say Mating Program?"

At this point, all of the eyes in the room were on him with looks akin to pity. Even Harry had broken out of his silent moping to stare at his best friend. Ron's stomach churned. It was Ginny who broke the silence. "Ron, didn't you read any of that article?" He could only shake his head. She sighed. "Does someone else want to tell him?"

There was a moment of silence while they all glanced around at each other. Ron was on the brink of shouting at them to spit it out when Harry finally spoke. "She has to sleep with Snape. Once a week. It's part of the Law."

The news hit him like the Hogwarts Express. "No… I…" he sputtered, trying to make sense of it all at once. "You're joking!"

The twins reaction to his distress was to smirk menacingly in a way he knew meant that they were uncomfortable with his pain. "Hey, that could have been you, mate," George said.

"More's the pity," Fred added, shaking his head.

"Shut it!" Ginny hissed, swatting George's arm.

Ron was staring off into space in horror. Hermione sleeping with Snape? Or… really… Snape sleeping with Hermione! Snape forcing himself on Hermione! "But what if she doesn't want to?" he blurted out.

"Well of course she doesn't want to!" Fred agreed helpfully.

Ginny smacked him, too. "Hermione knew what she was getting into, Ron. She read the Law. And anyway, didn't you see how he was scowling? It's not like he's excited about this, either."

"And anyway, think of it," said George, thoughtfully. "Maybe Snape won't be such a bastard once he's getting some action."

"Getting some action!? It's Hermione!"

"Yeah," agreed Fred with a dreamy expression, "did you see her in that dress today?"

"And he gets to take it off of her…" George shook his head.

"Lucky sod."

"Shut it!" Ron and Ginny shouted together. Ron's mind was spinning out of control. Anger and helplessness seemed to inflate him to the bursting point but he couldn't quite explode. Suddenly unable to be in the room with the rest of them, Ron leapt to his feet and stomped to the door. "I can't take this," he snapped, "I just… I've gotta go."

Pacing the top floor of Twelve Grimmauld didn't help abate his anger. If anything, it only seemed to fuel it. It felt like his fault. When they had first read about the Marriage Law, everyone had known that he would petition for Hermione if she needed him to. Well, apparently everyone had known, anyway. His mother had to sit him down to explain that that was what he would have to do, and why. And he would have been happy to do that for her. Not that he felt…you know… that way for her, but she was his friend and he would have protected her.

But no one had mentioned this part of the Law. It changed everything. For the first time since Hermione had decided to marry Snape, Ron didn't feel relieved. Oh sure, at first he was happy not to have to get married at such a young age. The idea was daunting, after all. But he never would have agreed to let her sleep with Snape. Once a week. He would have had sex with Hermione. Once a week. That could have been him. Why did that make him more jealous than marriage did? Why did that make it seem like maybe it wouldn't have been so bad? Being married to Hermione. Sex once a week. Or more, if she wanted… But no. Now she was going to be sleeping with their Potions Master. What if he hurt her? The pervert! What if he made her do it more than they had to? What if she tried to fight him off and he held her down? He was a grown wizard. A powerful, dark wizard…

"Ron, are you alright?" The boy in question whipped around to see Remus Lupin at the top of the stairs. The anger seemed to rise up in his chest, focusing on that one soft-spoken man who had failed to protect Hermione.

"How could you have let her marry Snape!?" he shouted. Lupin's eyes grew wide with shock. "You knew what they had to do!"

"I tried to talk her out of it," the man protested.

"You were happy!"

"I admit, I wasn't… well I…"

"You were glad it wasn't Tonks! You were glad Hermione was there to take her place. You sacrificed her!"

"Now, Ron. It wasn't my decision…"

"Someone should have stopped her! It's Snape! He's going to hurt her and everyone knows that and everyone thinks it's okay…"

"Severus is a good man…"

"HE'S A DEATH EATER!" Downstairs, Mrs. Black began to shriek, but Ronald Weasley didn't care. He wanted to tear this whole house down in his rage. What a useless pile of shite it was if the Order couldn't even protect Hermione! She was the most important one! Other than Harry… And they'd just thrown her to the wolves… so to speak.

"Ron. Severus Snape is an Order member." Ron scoffed angrily. "Dumbledore trusts him."

"Dumbledore's WRONG!"

"You're hurting. You feel helpless. You want to place blame. But Hermione is very strong. She can take care of herself."

The anger seemed to be building up in his head, behind his eyes, threatening to burst them from their sockets. It was turning cold, leeching into his soul, pulling his heart down into his stomach, sucking his strength out. "She's the one who… the one…" He slammed a palm against the wall and leaned into it, collapsing against the old, dusty wood.

"She doesn't need you to save her, Ron," Remus was saying. The words seemed to puncture the last of his resolve, letting his emotions come pouring out as he sobbed hard into his sleeve. He sank against the wall. "She will be okay." The voice was getting closer, sinking down beside him. "Hermione is strong." Of course she was. She was the strongest person he knew. "This is for the best." Could that really be true? "There is nothing else you could have done to stop her. And she didn't expect you to."

"But I should have," he whined through the shameful tears. "I should have said something to her. I should have been there… let her know that I was there if she needed me."

"She did know that. We talked about it; her and I. She said that it would have been a lot easier for her to marry you, but that it wasn't about what was easy for her. She married Snape so that Tonks could be with me. I told her she didn't need to do that, but she was determined. You know how she can be set in her ways. Once she's decided something… there's no getting it out of her head."

Ron rubbed his eyes, pulling his face out of his arms and breathing in a shuddering breath. "You're right. I know you're right, I just… I didn't know she was going to have to… that they would have to…"

"I know."

"And we just… let her. We just pushed her right into his arms…"

"Hermione Granger is not helpless. She made this decision herself, and she would murder you if you ever let on that you thought of her like that. Like… a victim."

"But she is, though. Oh, she's strong and brave and usually it's her that's trying to help someone else, but… this time she was the one who needed helping. And we just let her go." Ron rubbed his eyes again. They were beginning to ache.

"She isn't gone forever, you know. You can still be there for her. As a friend. That's what she needs right now. It's going to be hard enough being married to Severus Snape without her friends telling her she made a bad decision."

Ron only nodded, understanding. She needed his support. Well, he could be that for her. He could do that much. Merlin knows she would have done it for him.

…*~*J*~*…

Hermione scooped the contents of her underwear drawer into the seemingly bottomless trunk and sighed. She had refused to allow the Hogwarts elves to take care of it for her. But… it had to be done. She was moving into the dungeons with her new husband. How strange. She was moving into the dungeons to cohabitate with Professor Snape. Flopping back onto the bed, she let out a groan.

Gryffindor Tower had been her refuge here at Hogwarts. Before term had even begun their very first year, this bedroom had been hers. She had always known that she could come here to escape whatever problem was plaguing her. It usually had something to do with the boys. But now… now she was moving right to the problem itself. Now, she would be stuck with it. With him.

Snape had barely said three words to her since their "marriage" earlier that afternoon. He'd sent her to pack up her things with vague instructions to meet him beside the Potions classroom in an hour. Well, it hadn't taken nearly an hour to dump all of her carefully laid out belongings into one big trunk. Now, she had only to wait.

Staring up at the scarlet canopy, Hermione wondered what the Potions Master's quarters would be like. She had known that the professors lived at Hogwarts, but had never wondered what sorts of spaces they inhabited. Was it like apartments? Just bedrooms? Maybe a sitting area for visiting… who? For visiting students? Surely not.

And what would they do? She was bound to be stuck with him all night. Would he want to get the… the… consumation… out of the way? Or would he put it off to last minute and make her wait? Hermione would just as soon have it over with, even if it was only the first of many repeats. She wasn't looking forward to that aspect of their new life together. She wasn't looking forward to it at all.

And what would it even be like? Snape didn't exactly strike her as a romantic type, but she had little to go on with regards to sex. That is… she'd seen a few chick flicks from time to time with artfully obscured sex scenes showing moments of passion between lovers, but she really couldn't imagine anything like that transpiring between herself and her professor. Of course, she really didn't know. Maybe men were just so caught up in their own physiological responses that seemingly affectionate gestures just sort of happened.

Either way, soon enough, her naked body was going to be touching Snape's. How weird was that? Now, Hermione Granger was no prude. She considered modesty an emotional response. But she had no experience to draw on. Would he kiss her? Would he touch her? It all just seemed so strange.

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine Snape turning toward her, approaching her in a dimly lit dungeon chamber, a giant four-poster bed in Slytherin green dominating the room. She would want to draw away from him, but to do so would be to show weakness, and that would never do. She would stand strong, shivering as he stepped into her personal space and brought his fine-boned hands to rest upon her waist. Hermione shuddered. She was feeling quite confident today, as she had spent the afternoon being gawked at by wizards of an age with her husband. Clearly, she wasn't too young or too scrawny for any of them. Maybe… maybe he thought she looked pretty, too?

She would place her own hands on his upper arms, but it wouldn't be quite natural, and she would end up with her hands behind his neck, pulling her even closer to his dominating frame. Those dark black eyes would bore into hers, impressed by her boldness, daring her to do even more.

Maybe she would press her breasts against his chest, watching to see if his eyes dilated. She would ask him without words if he wanted to touch her, and his hands would twitch involuntarily. 'You are no longer a girl,' he might say, letting his eyes rove across her newfound curves.

'It's about time you noticed,' she would answer. Then he would crush her hard against him and slowly lower his mouth to hers. The first kiss would be brief, awkward, but she would moan against his mouth and he would growl into hers. Suddenly overcome with desire, he would kiss her fiercely, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and pushing her backwards until she collapsed into his sheets.

Hermione bolted up in the bed, gasping. Her skin seemed to be on fire, pulsing with embarrassed warmth. Maybe she wasn't only anxious about the night ahead. Maybe she was actually looking forward to it. Oh come on, Hermione, don't be daft. It was only a fantasy, after all. Snape would never look at her that way in real life. He thought of her as a girl; a child. She would never be anything more than a bony chit to him. He would never want her.

Did she want him to?

She waited a solid ten minutes outside the Potions classroom before the man in question decided to make an appearance. He growled and glared and gestured for her to follow, not so much as offering a helping hand with her heavy trunk. After all, as he kept telling her, she could have had the elves do it, but she just had to do it herself.

Dragging her luggage after her professor, Hermione followed the insufferable man down the darkened corridor, past the classroom, past where Harry and Ron said the Slytherin Common Room was, and deep into the heart of the dungeon. There were fewer candles and portraits the farther they went and eventually he stopped in front of a mural of a tree that was framed by a plane stone arch. A series of nonverbal spells released what appeared to be a number of intricate wards and the façade melted away.

It would have been comforting for the melted mural to have let out a stream of warm, homey light. Unfortunately, the room beyond the arch was darker than the corridor. Snape waved his wand again as they stepped across the threshold, and a couple dozen candles lit themselves around the room. Hermione gasped. She hadn't known what to expect, but this certainly hadn't been it. His chambers were the epitome of a fictional Sorcerer's Lair. Half of the walls were covered by books; the others by shelves of jars of potions ingredients. Strange animals, liquids, powders, insect bits, organs, leaves, and stranger things than she had ever used in Potions class seemed to have been haphazardly strewn across every available surface. Counters were crowded with parchment and cutting boards. Knives had been left out. Mortars and pestals and strange metal tools littered the spaces in between. There were cauldrons stacked in corners; some standing ready on tables; two softly simmering over an open flame. There was a single wooden stool and nothing more.

He ushered her past this room and through a heavy wooden door into what appeared to be his bedroom. A dark, oak wardrobe was the most imposing piece of furniture. Around it, three parchment-strewn desks were crowded into the corners with one rickety chair between them. A fireplace was flanked by two more bookshelves and attended by one huge threadbare wingback chair. Hung on the opposite wall was an impressive clockwork structure that appeared to be slowly moving. Wheels and gears held spindles with metal balls at the ends; circles upon circles that she couldn't make sense of. It was strangely beautiful. And beneath that was his bed. It was a sad, rickety little grey thing with blankets that were probably as old as she was. Hermione swallowed. And she was going to live here.

Panic was beginning to seep into her chest, pulsing angrily and urging her to feel regret for her mistake. And it was a mistake. Anything that could have led her to live in this place must surely be categorized as such. No. No. Get a grip, Hermione. It's only a bedroom. It's nothing to panic about. But it was hardly a bedroom. This was a workspace. The bed itself seemed to have been squeezed in as a last minute consideration. Oh, yes, and I might have to sleep at some point. Merlin! There was no space for anything of hers. No space in that bed for the two of them! What the hell was she going to do?!

Too late, she noticed her professor watching her. "Admiring your new accommodations?" he asked her in a deadly quiet tone.

She swallowed. "I…" she didn't know what to say. "Where should I put my things?" she asked, instead.

It may have been her imagination, but some of the tension seemed to leave the man at that. He led her to the wardrobe and threw it open, shifting all of his belongings to one side. They only took up half the space. Well, no one had ever accused Professor Snape of having a diverse wardrobe.

Hermione nodded in thanks. "And my books?" she wondered.

There was a long pause in which her Potions Master seemed to simmer. "I told Albus this wasn't going to work," he spat. "I don't have room for all of your silly things. Next, I expect you'll want to know where you can put the doll house!"

Hermione couldn't help herself. "You think I want this? I wanted to stay in Gryffindor Tower…"

"Yes, well, you can't can you?"

"But the Law doesn't say anything about…"

"It's nothing to do with the Law! It's Wizarding custom. Allowing you to sleep anywhere but at my side would be shameful."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You mean you're the one who's making me live down here?"

He scoffed at that. "Don't be ridiculous. It was never a question…"

"Well, then, you ought to make accommodations for me."

That was going too far. Snape descended upon her, curling his tall, slender form until she seemed trapped even though he hadn't touched her. "I owe you nothing," he hissed. "As my wife, you belong to me."

At his words, Hermione felt the first shiver of fear. How could she have even imagined this man gently touching her? How could she have ever thought that he would be tender? "Belong?" she asked, dismayed when her voice was barely a whisper.

He sneered wickedly at that, pulling himself up to his full height. There was a twinge of bitterness in those black eyes. "Yes, Miss Granger. Belong. You belong to me, now. That is what marriage is."

"But it… it doesn't mean anything," she protested.

"Oh, but it does. It means everything, Miss Granger. It means that you can never oppose me in a court of law."

That information hit Hermione like the dull blow of a hammer. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Sensing her distress, Snape pulled himself nearer to her, approaching her in a twisted mockery of her fantasy from earlier. "It means," he growled, his voice darker and deeper than she'd ever heard it before, the mere vibrations sending shudders down her spine, "that I can do anything I want to you. And there's nothing you can do."

She stood strong. "But y-you won't hurt me."

He laughed at that, the cruelty of the sound piercing deep into her heart. Here she was proving faith in the man and he could think of nothing better than to rip it out from under her. "You are fortunate, Miss Granger," he told her, sweeping sparkling eyes down her shivering form. She hadn't felt so exposed by the tightness of her dress until that moment. Then his eyes locked onto hers, but he did not speak, teasing her with fear and anticipation.

"Why?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Because," he growled, his eyes narrowing wickedly as he basked in her response, "there is nothing that I want to do to you."

…*~*J*~*…

Thank you so very much writeratheart007, bookworm661, sa1ntmung0, Sassyluv, RhodaBush, ButI'mBatgirl, articcat621, Cause-and-Author, jensteed, Mikena, recey2010, SereniteRose, Blue night fairy, gloryandfame, stexgirl2000, mystery, ahemmeri, Lorna brownie, marzipan4, just an anon reader, Mrs. Anya Snape, frog8590, Remarkable1, jdbmcmahan2000, Amarenima Redwood, Broadwayfreak5357, meg527, Karli1252, Viteali Varishta, Her Royal Goddess, the chit, evil-sensei iruka, fifiotoole, Fantomette34, incoherentlove, Onyx Obsidian, ReDish, MisSkars, Agcadx1, CharmedArtist, doctorhodes, Hannoie, Perry Downing, and several Guests for Reviewing my last chapter! You guys are amazing and I love you!

:} llorolalluvia