"B-but... You..." Hermione stumbled over her words, trying to figure out what to say. She had forgotten that he was also bound under the marriage law. He fell within all of the specifications, and she felt quite ashamed that she hadn't thought of him being pooled in with everyone else that qualified.

Wrenching guilt flooded through her. He had been spending his time trying to devise a way for her to get out from under Lucius' thumb, even though he had his own problems within all the marriage law mess. A bout of coughing overtook her, and Snape waited patiently for her to finish. Once she had control again, he continued with a sour demeanor.

"Listen, Granger. I do not want any part of this lunacy. I have wanted out of this hellhole since before you were born. As I laid there dying in the Shrieking Shack, I thought I was going to finally get my wish. Up until I was released from Azkaban, I harbored a murderous longing to throttle that third year brat who felt it necessary to intervene in my death. When I was released from imprisonment, I thought I could finally get some peace in my life and be free of the shackles the old man and the Dark Lord had placed on me. Apparently fate, the heartless bitch, decided to prove me wrong on a whole different level." He scowled heavily at the floor, loathing having to explain himself to the little chit.

"Sh... shouldn't the Ministry be able to give you some type of... I don't know... reprieve?" Hermione asked, subconsciously rubbing the back of her right hand in a nervous habit. "I wouldn't think they'd want you to... Um..."

"Reproduce?" Snape offered with a growl.

"No... I just thought... Teachers – "

"As much as I'd love for that reprieve to exist," he cut in, "it does not. My age is the only thing that sets me apart from the other teachers in this institution. The old buggers are all exempt, and there was nothing in the law that stated anything about educators. Trust me, I searched thoroughly." He said the last part with particular disdain, already tiring of the conversation.

Hermione looked down at her hands, her mind foggy. She could feel her fever spike, and her vision was a little hazy. She felt terrible. The poor man had been through hell and back, only to be shoved over the edge once again before he even founding his footing. There she was, whining about her life, when the man before her literally gave his to ensure peace for wizardkind. Her mortification at her own selfishness only rivaled her desperation to understand why he would sacrifice himself, again.

"Do you have any more questions you wish to ask before you make your decision?" He sounded irritated, which she couldn't hold against him in the least.

Yes, she thought. A million and one of them.

"I still don't understand why you are doing this," she said as she placed her head in her hands. "I really don't have a choice, but you still kind of do, even if it leaves me with no choice."

"Stupid girl, what did I just explain?" he snapped at her. "I am part of this train wreck, too. I am so much of a social pariah that none of the few petitions I did send were even acknowledged! I'm down to the end of my rope. It is either you or a Ministry selected mate that will probably commit suicide for marrying a murderer!"

Hermione gasped, looking up at him in shock. "Sir! You are not a murderer! And people don't think of you that way. Not all of them! You did what you – "

"Do not speak of what you know nothing of, wench!" Snape snarled.

"I... I'm sorry," she said, trying to hold her stare steady on his deep, black eyes. "I'm not going to try and pretend to know you, Professor, because I don't. But I do know what you've done, and the great lengths you went through to rid us of Vol– uh, the Dark Lord. You're not all bad. And I'm not completely rejecting this idea. It sounds very logical, and it's the best plan to cross my path since this whole thing started. I don't think I could hold my own against Malfoy, and I like the idea of staying here at the school, which would be an impossibility with anyone else... There are no seventh or sixth years left that are eligible. The biggest difference, I suppose, would be sharing quarters with you. I... I'm terrified, to be honest. But the plan you set up with McGonagall and Dumbledore – " at which Snape scoffed " – has made me feel better about the situation than I have in weeks."

Snape looked Hermione in the eye, grabbing her attention. Thinking her words over carefully, he said evenly, "I am still just as much of a bastard as I ever was, and I will continue to be so until the day I die. I am not affectionate, nor am I easily swayed with tears. I have a cruel streak a mile long, and that will not change either. The only promises I can make to you is that I will protect you and I will never physically harm you. You will be provided for more than sufficiently, and I have every intention of allowing you to choose your own path. Again, it will only be a marriage of convenience. I believe that is everything you need to know, and I'm going to let you rest and make your final decision." With a swish of his robes, he exited the ward, nodding to Madam Pomfrey as he passed by. Immediately, she bustled over to Hermione with a tray of food and a few vials. Hermione was completely at a loss as to what to think.

xxxxx

It was almost ten o' clock at night when the potions master returned to the hospital wing with Professor McGonagall. Madam Pomfrey had been force-feeding soup to Hermione all throughout the evening, which made her feel ill on her stomach. She had no idea how long it had been since she had eaten a real meal, and apparently neither did her stomach. After her third trip to void her stomach and refresh her charms, she emerged from the restroom to see McGonagall and Snape waiting for her by her bed. She hoped they were oblivious to her real reasoning behind her frequent trips to the washroom. Dread knotting in the pit of her belly, she slowly walked towards them.

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape," she said in nervous greeting, perching on the edge of her bed.

"Are you feeling better, dear girl?" her Head of House asked concernedly, noting that she no longer looked of death, but she still looked rather peaky.

"Yes, Headmistress, much better. I suppose I should know better than to let a cold go untreated. This marriage law business has my priorities all out of line." Hermione tried to perk herself up a bit, knowing her House Mother would have a fit if she knew how Hermione really felt.

"Well, have you made a decision?" McGonagall asked, preparing to get right down to business. There wasn't much time left.

Had Hermione made her decision? Of course she had. From the first moment they mentioned the idea of her marrying the austere bat of the dungeons, she knew it was what she needed to do. If there was any other option, she would willingly choose it over Malfoy. The know-it-all in her thought logically about marrying Snape, and she found that she did trust the man enough to take him for his word. How could she not? As much as no one wanted to believe that he was an honest man, she knew it was true. He would never break a promise, and refused to go back on his word. Looking at everything he had accomplished for the wizarding world, she decided that Severus Snape was her best option to protect her from Lucius Malfoy and any other person determined to ruin her life.

"Yes. I... I think... You are both right. I have no one else. And if Professor Snape truly has no one else to adhere to the law with, either, it wouldn't make sense for us to not... er, get married. I do not underestimate his ability to protect me, if Malfoy decides he wants revenge. I just... I can't marry that mad man. If he's anywhere near as sadistic as his sister-in-law, Bellatrix..." She shivered and subconsciously rubbed the massive scar the crazy bitch left on her arm. Setting her jaw determinedly, she said, "No. I will do it. I will marry the professor. After all, it will only be a marriage of convenience. We'll have until June to figure out the rest of the... requirements." Blushing furiously, she hid her face by forcing a cough.

"Alright then," McGonagall said, nodding her head. "We'll set up an impromptu ceremony for tomorrow night. Poppy says her tonics should have you better by morning, so you still have your Monday morning classes. I suggest you rest up."

The two professors both left, and Hermione couldn't help but notice Snape's very stony silence. She supposed he was a man of few words, and he probably believed he had already told her everything she needed to know from him. Trying not to think too hard on it, laid back into her bed and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

xxxxx

Hermione shot out of her hospital bed, barely managing to stifle her scream trying to rip forth from her nightmare. It was the same as always, but there was once again something that felt off about it. Something that made it seem different. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, shouting at her to realize what was amiss.

Calming her labored breathing, Hermione stared into the low-burning torch hanging next to her bed as she contemplated what was off about her dream. Everything was exactly the same, down to every last word her father roared at her.

Her thoughts finally drifted away from her nightmare after a while, her mind turning instead to her professor. She found it difficult to believe that in less than twenty-four hours' time, she would be getting married. And not just married to anyone, but to her Potions' professor, no less. It was as if she was in a daze, the idea of marrying Severus Snape belonging only in an alternate reality.

She wasn't repulsed by the man as most women were. He didn't possess the traditional good looks, per say, but he definitely had his positive attributes, and Hermione was never one to base her feelings towards someone based on their physical appearance. Not that she had feelings for the man in the slightest, but she definitely did not dislike him. She could definitely do much worse than him, which is what she was trying to avoid. As much of a cynical bastard he was, she knew he was going to be the best she could do given the circumstances.

A few hours of rumination finally brought the sun up over the horizon, which did not cheer Hermione as much as it should. Though she knew it had to be done, and could be much, much worse, that did not keep her frazzled nerves from dreading the night to follow.

It wasn't long after the sun had risen that Madam Pomfrey sidled up to Hermione, insisting on making sure she ate a large bowl of porridge before allowing her to be on her way. Hermione tried to eat as quickly as she could, wanting to make an appearance in the Great Hall before rumors began to spread. She didn't care much about what students gossiped about, but she didn't want her friends to worry or think she had dropped from the face of the planet.

The porridge was much too heavy for her body to handle, and it took every ounce of her willpower to not let it come back up in Madam Pomfrey's presence. Instead, she fled the hospital wing as fast as she could manage to find a less inscrutable place to purge. She finally made a stop at the second floor girls' restroom, emptying most of the contents of her stomach, her body still not adjusted to eating after abstaining for so long. As she wiped her mouth of the remnants, she heard a giggle come from the u-bend, which made Hermione groan.

"Not today, Myrtle."

Another giggle resounded before Moaning Myrtle appeared out of the toilet. She looked joyous, which seemed to be a habit for her for that month. "Ooooohhh, trying to lose weight?"

Hermione tried to summon the best death glare she could contrive, which she realized was slightly ironic given the way Myrtle had kicked the bucket. "Go away."

"Ooohh, someone is in a bad mood," Myrtle cackled, propping her elbows on the seat of the toilet. "Throwing up will never work. I tried that, when I was alive. It won't help you find a husband." She giggled and floated from the porcelain bowl to hover over Hermione as she exited the stall and washed her hands.

"Piss off," Hermione growled at the ghost, not the least bit happy with Myrtle's accusation. She dried her hands quickly and stalked out of the bathroom, reigning in her temper to keep from cursing the joyous spirit. She heard Myrtle call to her as the door shut behind her, but she just ignored it and made her way to the Great Hall, hoping she wasn't too late to catch her friends. Checking her watch, she saw she still had time and picked up her step.

Once she made it, she walked to the Gryffindor table, settling herself across from Neville and Ginny. Luna wasn't in the Hall, which didn't surprise Hermione too much. Her two friends openly gaped at her.

"What?" she asked, annoyed already.

"Where have you been, Hermione?" Ginny asked, her look very plainly stating it was unusual for Hermione to be absent, even for a day.

"Sick. I was in the hospital wing yesterday," she explained, trying not to sound too serious. "It was just a cold, but the headmistress insisted I needed Madam Pomfrey's assistance. I'm much better now."

Neville tried to say something but the post arrived in a flurry of noise, drowning him out. A solid black owl dropped in front of Hermione carrying a scroll, making Hermione feel as though the pit of her stomach had dropped out. Hermione relieved the creature of the letter, but didn't have time to offer the bird anything before it took off again. Making sure Ginny and Neville were preoccupied with their own post, she unrolled the letter quickly and read:

Astronomy Tower at Midnight.

She realized that that must have been Professor Snape's owl, which figured as it was black. At least it wasn't a bat.

Grabbing up her bag and ignoring Ginny and Neville's questions, Hermione trekked back to her dorm, dreading what was to come later that night.

xxxxx

The day went by as any other typical day would, but Hermione found herself on edge, for which she was not surprised. Critically thinking about the whole situation, she realized more and more how much danger she was truly in. If she married Professor Snape, he would become a target as well. Could she really do that to a man who had already sacrificed literally everything? He had suffered enough to last ten lifetimes. Was it really fair for her to possibly cause him more suffering just because she didn't want to suffer alone at the hands of Malfoy? She was so confused about the whole situation, but it didn't really matter anymore. She had made her decision, as had Professor Snape. He had agreed to marry her, the bane of his teaching experience (next to Neville Longbottom), and that meant he really didn't have another choice either.

At lunch, she noticed he was absent, but she couldn't concern herself with it too much. It wasn't unusual for him to skip meals in the Great Hall. Ginny and Neville noticed her eyeing the head table.

"Everything okay, Hermione?" Neville asked as Luna took a seat next to him. Hermione couldn't help but pine a little at their ability to be close. The headmistress couldn't very well in good conscience separate married couples for meals, so the Ravenclaw, as well as many other students, were allowed to dine with their significant others at whichever table they wished.

"What?" Hermione asked, moving her eyes away from the staff table. "Oh, oh yes. I'm fine. Just been a little out of sorts lately. I'm sure you understand."

The three nodded in unison, looking at her as though she were an abandoned puppy. Ginny decided to ask the question they were all inwardly thinking. "So you still haven't received a petition?"

Hermione was not ready to answer that question, and she knew it would take much more than a lunch hour to explain her unusual circumstance to the three. Opting instead for a truthful, vague statement, she replied, "I really don't wish to discuss it as of the moment."

They could understand that sort of reasoning and left it alone, though the knowing looks Luna was giving Hermione sent worried chills down her spine.

xxxxx

After spending the afternoon in the library, Hermione finally gave up on her studies and managed to arrive at her room as quickly as possible, warding the door behind her. The buzzing of the castle seemed to only grow stronger the more the day progressed, and though she knew it had nothing to do with her, it made her anxiety levels skyrocket. She only had an hour before dinner, so she decided to make the best of her free time and take a hot shower, distracting herself of the coming night.

After mealtime had come and gone, Hermione made her rounds that she had missed the night before. Her pneumonia was completely gone thanks to Poppy Pomfrey's care. No, there was no cure for a cold or pneumonia, but wizarding science had managed to shorten the infection down to hours instead of days. She was glad to be feeling much better on that front, but her malnourished body still left her feeling sluggish. She hadn't attempted to eat any more that day, the porridge fiasco from that morning still weighing heavily on her mind. Her supplements did their best to boost what little nourishment she had gotten from her breakfast.

Her weakened body was beginning to feel worse for wear and she was having dizzy spells a little more often than usual, but she did her best to ignore it. It would sort itself out soon enough, she hoped.

After her rounds, Hermione laid in her bed and waited for the predetermined hour where she was to sign her life away, in a manner of speaking. It was becoming difficult for her to focus on what was to come. She supposed she was in shock. She wasn't panicking like she thought she would. Everything seemed to fall into place, but there seemed to be an underlying detail that gave her a vicious turn in her stomach that she couldn't figure out. She was missing something, and she couldn't for the life of her think of what it could be. Whatever it was, it wasn't good, and she knew it could possibly break her.

Looking at the clock on her mahogany nightstand, she saw that she had only thirty minutes to get ready and make her way to the Astronomy Tower. Groaning as she rolled from her bed, she didn't even bother changing out of her school robes, the layers and charms hiding her body nicely and keeping her warm. She did, however, bother with combing her hair, the mass of curls having become riotous from lounging in her bed. Checking her appearance in the mirror of her bathroom, she supposed she was presentable enough for an extempore union. Grabbing her wand from her nightstand and pulling on her trainers, Hermione exited her dorm and began walking towards the seventh floor at a deliberately slow pace.

When she had made it about halfway to the tower, that detail she couldn't figure out popped into her head.

Oh, dear Merlin! I'm going to have to sleep with him. Tonight!

She froze, clutching her chest as her knees buckled. She was going to have to have sex. With him. Her professor. She wasn't a virgin, but that one experience... The thought almost made her heave.

It was a requirement, though. For the ceremony to be binding, the marriage had to be consummated within just a few hours of the ceremony, otherwise the joining would be null and void. Which meant that Malfoy would still have his chance. That thought did little to comfort her, knowing what was to come. Her legs became wobbly, so she found the nearest alcove to sit down before she collapsed. Once she was firmly seated, she began shaking uncontrollably, her breath coming out in gasps.

This was it. The panic attack she had been waiting for. Quickly casting a silencing charm around her, she let the sobs burst forth like a dam bursting in a storm. She felt her world crashing down around her, and flashes of her father rushed through her mind, frightening her even more. She didn't know if she could go through with it. Not again. Not when her first and only experience had been so... horrific. All she could remember was pain and humiliation.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't.

So she fled.