"Minerva."

Severus put down the book he was reading and shut it, raking his fingers through his black hair and staring resolutely at the woman who had been teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts for decades.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster."

Severus frowned at her cold formality and gestured for her to sit opposite him. "Minerva, you have known me since I was eleven years old."

Minerva pinched her lips and rather scowled, "So I thought I did, Severus. But then you put him up there." She flicked her wrinkled eyes up to the portrait of Dumbledore, which was once again pretending to be asleep. Severus sighed exasperatedly and turned over his shoulder, barking at the portrait,

"Albus! Would you care to assist me?"

"Oh!" The portrait of Dumbledore roused from his feigned sleep and said, "Good afternoon, Minerva! How wonderful to see you."

"Indeed." Minerva crossed her ankles tightly and put her hands on her knees, looking uncomfortable. "What is this all about, anyway?"

"Albus?" Severus prompted again tersely, and the portrait cleared his throat.

"Minerva, I realize you believe Severus to be a cold-blooded murderer, and I can scarcely blame you."

Severus found himself crumpling his eyebrows up at the portrait at that. How, precisely, was it helpful to say something like that? But then Dumbledore's portrait persisted and said,

"But, you must understand the reality. Draco Malfoy had been ordered to murder me, and I insisted that Severus do it instead. He killed me to protect the boy, Minerva. My death was an inevitability… Severus acted to preserve his role as a double agent, and also to protect Draco. In killing me, Severus was being both selfless and courageous."

Severus felt his cheeks color with a bit of embarrassment at the unsolicited flattery, and he cleared his throat softly as he turned back to Minerva. He was shocked to see her pale, wide eyes swimming with sudden tears. Her chin trembled and she whispered,

"Is this true, Severus?"

He just nodded at her, a curt, single bob of his head. "It is true that I did not kill Albus Dumbledore out of malice."

Minerva was silent for a long moment. She opened her mouth to speak, furrowed her brows, and shut her lips again. Severus waited patiently. Then, at last, Minerva asked softly, "And what of Miss Granger? The night that Albus… died… Miss Granger admitted that you and she..."

"Yes." Severus nodded again. "That's been going on for some time now. That is, in fact, the reason I asked you here today, Minerva."

McGonagall looked rather horrified, pressing her bony old fingers up to her thin wrinkled lips as she waited for Severus to continue. He took a shaking breath and swallowed.

"Miss Gra - Hermione - and I are to be married. Quite soon, in fact… the expediency of the matter is at the insistence of the Dark Lord, or else I would certainly wait for a more suitable and less scandalous time frame."

Minerva's mouth fell open as though her jaw had come entirely unhinged. Her eyes fluttered shut and then open again in shock, and she stammered, "You - you mean to marry the girl, Severus?"

"I do indeed." Severus' voice was rather sharp now, for he felt quite irritated with Minerva's indignant tone. He sighed brusquely as Minerva sat up straighter in her chair and huffed,

"She is a child!"

"She is not," Severus insisted, feeling his cheeks color. His voice was a low, liquid silk hiss as he said, "She is very much more than that, Minerva, and you condescend to both Hermione and myself to underestimate her."

"She is a student, Severus, and that is a fact! This is most inappropriate!" Minerva shook her head vehemently and looked flat-out disgusted. "No, no, no. You mustn't do this. Wait a few years, at the very least, Severus."

Severus squared his jaw and growled, "That was my intention, Minerva, until the Dark Lord saw memories of Hermione in my head. So sorry, madam, that I was unable to keep out the greatest Legilimens of all time. In any case, she and I are to be held up as the proudest examples of half-bloods marrying to expand the so-called 'Two Magical Parent' population."

"Then you are going to… to cause her to conceive, as well?" Minerva gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth.

Severus cheeks went warm with embarrassment and his lip curled up. "That is generally something a husband might be expected to do," he said, sounding bored.

"Oh, the poor dear," Minerva moaned, and now Severus felt quite cross. The old bat was making it seem as though he'd kidnapped Hermione and coerced her into a forced union. He shrugged impatiently and shook his head.

"Really, Minerva. I gave the girl a beautiful ring and got down upon one knee and professed my love for her. She happily agreed to marry me. I assure you, there is no dastardly compulsion at play here - merely an acceleration of an existing time frame."

"Oh." Minerva nodded hesitantly. "I see."

Severus heard the portrait of Dumbledore chuckle a little behind him at the misunderstanding. He scowled, not bothering to turn around.

"In any case," Severus said tightly, "I shall need you to make the announcement to the school. It would be most awkward for me to do so. I shall notify you the day after the wedding, when Hermione's already moved her belongings out of Gryffindor Tower. Keep the announcement brief, simple, and straight-forward. Focus on the Ministry's new policy of desiring unions between half-bloods."

"I shall not speak publicly about 'blood status,'" Minerva said firmly, shaking her head. Severus sighed and nodded in conciliation.

"Very well. Then I shall have the Carrows mention that bit in their classes."

Minerva's eyes darkened at the mention of the Carrows. She rose from her chair, nodding. "If that is all, I'm about to be late to teach my third-years how to Transfigure candles into crystal vases."

"That will be all," Severus affirmed, standing from his own chair and giving the elderly witch a polite little bow. He watched Minerva stride confidently from the office. Just as she was about to go, she paused and turned around.

"Take very good care of Miss Granger," she instructed Severus, sounding ever the teacher. "She is very kind, and very clever."

"I know she is," Severus agreed in a low voice. "That is why I love her, Minerva."

She nodded, looking slightly reassured. She turned wordlessly and opened the door, and then she was gone.

"Headmaster?"

Behind Severus, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black had cleared his throat and was attempting to get his younger counterpart's attention. Severus turned round to face the portrait and flicked up his eyebrows expectantly.

"I've just come from my painting in Grimmauld Place," Phineas Nigellus Black informed Severus, who felt a flutter of anxiety in his chest at that news.

"And?" Severus demanded. "Was Potter there?"

"He was," Black nodded. "He was packing up and preparing to leave. I watched him go… he's no longer in the house. He wanted me to tell you, Headmaster - or, rather, to pass information on to Miss Granger. He wants Miss Granger to know this…" Black cleared his throat dramatically and imitated Potter's voice. "'Tell Hermione I've gone to the place where Moony waited out the nights.'"

Severus furrowed his eyebrows and sneered, "The boy needn't be cryptic. I know full well what the damned Shrieking Shack is."

He sighed as he realized Potter was terribly close - in Hogsmeade, if he'd successfully managed to make his way to the Shack. Severus hated the Shrieking Shack with all his soul and had no desire at all to go there, nor for Hermione to do so. But at the very least, Potter was out of Grimmauld Place and, it seemed, had not immediately tried to retrieve Ronald Weasley.

"Thank you, Phineas," Severus mumbled, distracted by the sight of a small school-owned owl fluttering against the outside of his diamond-paned window. Severus walked briskly to admit the bird and took the small note tied to its foot. He broke the crimson wax seal and recognized Hermione's writing - the same writing she'd scrawled on essays for seven years - at once.

"S, The Brev. Ster. we have been using shall suffice for now, and the new potion may be applied at a later time. Provided you are amenable, I sincerely wish to complete the Mag. Verb. Hon. this evening. Unless I hear otherwise, I shall arrive at eight o'clock. Yours, H."

Severus felt his lips curl up into a little smile at the note, which was just very Hermione in style - brief, matter-of-fact, and yet fiercely delightful in content. She wanted to put off the terrible side effects of the Elixir Infecundum because she wished to marry him - tonight.

Well, he thought, he could do that. He could marry her tonight. He bore no objection whatsoever to that notion.


Hermione stood before the mirror in the bathroom and swiped tears out of her eyes. She was very glad she'd not yet put on any cosmetics of any kind.

Years before, when Hermione was nine, her father's mother had passed away, and Hermione had received several heirlooms as an inheritance. The previous year, she'd stowed the three items she cared about the most in her purple bag with its Undetectable Extension Charm, for she wanted to ensure she never lost them. They were an antique strand of pearls from Mikimoto, a silver mirror, and her grandmother's wedding dress.

Hermione had kept the wedding dress safely folded in tissue paper and stowed in a dress box for years, and she'd scarcely thought of it, much less looked at it. But merely knowing it was safe and close made her think lovingly of her Nan, who had often served her tea and played dolls with her as a small girl.

Hermione's Nan had been married in 1951, and her wedding dress was very beautiful indeed. It was tea-length, and Hermione must have been about the same height now as her Nan had been then, for the dress hit Hermione just so upon her calves. It was lace and tulle with a creamy smooth satin lining, and it was the color of fresh milk.

The sweetheart neckline curved elegantly around Hermione's small breasts, with a tulle ruched insert and short sleeves that hugged her thin arms. The basque waist nipped her in and gave her a womanly figure, and the skirt flared out into an elegant, voluminous pouf with the help of a crinoline. There were tiny white buttons all up the back. The dress fit Hermione like a glove, and she felt beautiful in it.

She had Transfigured herself a pair of white satin pumps out of her school shoes, and she'd lovingly put the strand of pearls around her neck. Then she had tamed her wild tressed into smooth waves and conjured a narrow wreath of white baby's breath flowers around her head.

Now she stood before the mirror crying like a fool, wondering if she should bother putting on any makeup at all. She finally settled on a smoothing potion - the stuff she'd made in Potions lessons the year previously that made her skin look unblemished and smooth. She smeared on a little copper eyeshadow and waterproof mascara and a smidge of lip balm, and she surveyed her appearance once more with a shaking breath.

Severus is going to be my husband in a very short while, Hermione told herself, and that thought sent a jolt of electric joy down her spine.

She turned to the bathroom countertop and stared at the brass pocket-watch that sat there. For a brief moment, she contemplated the fact that Severus had bothered making her a magical object that allowed them to be near one another. Smiling with content gratitude, Hermione picked up the pocket watch and shut her eyes.

"Oraverit."


Severus was not sure what exactly he expected to see when Hermione Apparated into his rooms.

He did not expect her to look like a bride. His bride.

That was unreasonable, he reckoned, for he knew full well that she'd be coming there tonight to marry him. Why shouldn't she look like a bride?

But they'd had such incredibly short notice, and there she was, in an actual wedding dress that looked like it was from another time. And she had flowers in her hair. He felt his mouth drop open and his eyes flutter a bit as he searched for words.

As Allegri's Miserere rang forth from his old record player, Severus stalked around his armchair out to the rug where she'd appeared and stammered, "Y-you look properly beautiful, Hermione."

She smiled and blushed… actually blushed… and she murmured, "It was my grandmother's dress."

"Oh," Severus nodded. He swallowed heavily. "I never had the honor of meeting her, but I'm certain she would find you do the dress justice."

Hermione grinned widely then and giggled a bit. She quieted and sighed shakily, shifting upon her feet and reaching up to straighten the little wreath of blossoms that wove its way around her chestnut hair.

"I have no idea why I feel nervous," she admitted. "It's not as though this is some big wedding in front of three hundred guests, where I've got to strut down an aisle with organ music blasting. We don't have to dance in front of anyone, nor recite contrite vows and then kiss while everyone cheers and clanks upon glasses. I know you'd despise all of that."

She flushed again and stared down, fumbling her fingers together. Severus felt guilty all of a sudden. She was quite right; he would hate all of that. It sounded terrible to him. But was it what she'd dreamed of since childhood, like every stereotypical small female? He tipped up her chin.

"Is that what you want?" he asked her softly. "Do you want the big, public ceremony? The public kiss? The cake?"

"I just want you," Hermione insisted, and she leaned up to press her lips softly against Severus' cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. Then Hermione added, "I would never turn down cake."

He chuckled once and fingered the delicate flowers in her hair, murmuring again, "You look beautiful." He breathed in her comforting aroma - fresh rain and honeysuckle and verbena. Severus sighed and thought perhaps ordering him to marry her quickly was the only mercy the Dark Lord had ever committed.

He stepped away from her and said seriously, "You realize, Hermione, that to take the Magnum Verbum Honoris is the most weighty and significant of Magical commitments?"

He knew full well that she realized it. But he needed to hear her say it. He needed her consent. She nodded emphatically and smiled meekly. "I understand."

The music on the record player had switched now to the next track on the vinyl. The somber sounds of Maurice Ravel's Pavane Pour Une Infante Défunte on an acoustic guitar began to scratch forth into the room.

Severus let out breath through his parted lips, ignoring the way it shook a bit, and reached inside his frock coat for his wand. He had not dressed any differently than normal, for he had thought Hermione probably would not have wanted him to do so. He did not wish to look silly, after all. But he had combed his hair particularly neatly before she'd come, and he'd scrubbed his face extra hard, and he had checked his appearance in the mirror and thought he'd looked fine. It didn't matter as long as she was happy with him, and as he looked down into her glowing chestnut eyes he thought she seemed perfectly content.

"You really do look decidedly lovely," Severus said, knowing he'd already told her twice, but feeling unable to control himself from doing so. Hermione's eyes crinkled with happiness and her cheeks went a deep crimson as she cast her eyes downward.

"Thank you," she murmured. Then, after a long moment, she sighed and pulled her wand out from her own hidden dress pocket and said, "I'm ready, I think."

Severus nodded once, curtly. "Right," he said. "I've looked up the incantations and studied them carefully. I shall say them first and then you repeat them. Point your wand at my heart and I shall do the same to you."

"All right." Her brown eyes sparkled a bit in the firelight as she looked up at him, and she touched the tip of her vine wand to the chest of his frock coat. Severus felt the wand quivering against him as she shook with nerves, and he tried to smile as warmly as possible down at her as he licked his bottom lip. He pointed his own black wand at Hermione's chest, trying not to look awkward as he angled his hand. He hesitated and asked one final time, "Are you very, very certain that you want this, Hermione? To be married to me… forever?"

She nodded slowly, solemnly. "I am very certain, Severus."

Severus felt a swell of love for her in that moment, something that reassured him, as well, that the forceful and enduring spell was not being undertaken in haste. He squared his jaw and said, "Right, then. Repeat the words I say, altering names and tenses where apprpriate… center and send your magic." She nodded up at him, looking determined and resolute. Severus cleared his throat lightly and said in a voice that sounded like low liquid silk, "I, Severus Snape, bind myself to you, Hermione Granger, with the ancient promise of Magnus Verbum Honoris. Let this covenant never be broken. Our souls are bound forevermore."

He paused and shut his eyes for a moment, pushing forth a bit of his magic and waiting as a little vibration shuddered from his body into Hermione's. She shivered and smiled and then said softly, "I, Hermione Granger, bind myself to you, Severus Snape, with the ancient promise of Magnus Verbum Honoris. Let this covenant never be broken. Our souls are bound forevermore."

A churning sort of jolt flowed into his chest from her wand, and Severus could not keep the corners of his mouth from turning up at the pleasant warmth.

He licked his bottom lip, and then he spoke again, suddenly feeling a bit breathless.

"This next bit you needn't repeat - Only one of us has to say the great incantation," he explained, and Hermione nodded slowly, her wide eyes shimmering. Severus cleared his throat, hoping he would not sound like a fool as he spoke the words he meant to make his vow to her. He cast his onyx eyes down into her amber ones and hoped his wand wasn't trembling too fiercely against her heart.

"Hermione Jean Granger," he began rather hoarsely, "You have suitably impressed me, Hermione Jean Granger, with your staggering intelligence, your rapturous beauty, and your benevolence. You are a good witch in every way, and I am honored indeed to make myself your husband. Let me now and always thank you for who you are. I vow to encourage you in your endeavors, to cheer your accomplishments, to mourn your sorrows, to listen to your concerns, to be devoted wholly to you. I shall seek to act honorably, to make you never doubt my trustworthiness. From this day until we part, let my soul and yours twine as one, with these as my promises."

Hermione looked up at him with tears properly coursing down her porcelain cheeks, and Severus reached with his left hand to brush them away with the calloused pad of his thumb. He leaned down and kissed away the tears, his rough lips grazing her trembling cheeks. His wand pressed lightly against her heart as he stood back up, and hers was still against his frock coat. Severus cleared his throat again and mumbled gently,

"Dolor, beatitudo, distancia - nunc nihil sunt. Anima mea, et vita mea - nunc tibi es. Ubi sum, ibi es. Ubi vos, te sequor. Et is indissolubili hoc Magnum Verbum Honoris. Nos simul esse in aeternam."

The moment the last syllable left his lips, both tips of their wands glowed with a warm, energetic light. A pleasant vibration echoed into Severus' chest from Hermione's wand, and he felt a shudder creep down his arm into Hermione's body. Then there was a burst as the room went black for a moment and Severus felt as though he were floating in his own head, as though he'd fainted standing up. When he 'came to,' he looked into Hermione's wide, disbelieving eyes, and he dropped his wand. It clattered to the floor, having done its duty.

Severus clutched desperately at Hermione's face and kissed her fiercely, overcome suddenly with the way their magic had mingled, with the emotion have having bound himself to her and her to himself. He drew her into him with his lips, with his tongue, groaning into her mouth and hearing her whimper. There was an electric sort of oscillation between their mouths as Hermione staggered frantically backward toward Severus' bed - the bed that he realized they would now share as a couple.

"I love you," she whispered urgently, tossing her own wand carelessly onto his bedside table as her lithe little fingers started working wildly to unfasten the small buttons on Severus' frock coat. There were still tears coursing down her cheeks. "I love you."

Severus caught her wrist at his buttons and she gasped a little. He brought her hand up to his mouth and brushed his rough lips over her knuckles, staring down at her intensely. He used his free hand to brush her cheekbone and then dragged the pad of his thumb over her lip, letting out a low sound of want from the back of his throat. He swallowed and said to her, in his characteristic silky murmur,

"Thank you very much for marrying me, Hermione."


The night passed in a haze. Sex felt better with Severus after Hermione had bound her soul to his. That was a fact that neither of them could overlook, and so they didn't. For hours, off and on, they made love. Sometimes it was slow and languorous and very, very beautiful. Sometimes it was frantic and desperate and left them in a sticky heap. Hermione found herself with an unquenchable thirst for him - every touch of his skin to hers was electric, and every breath he took was like fresh air into her own lungs. His heart seemed to beat inside her own chest as he thrummed inside of her. It was addictive and wonderful and the tiniest bit frightening.

Once, after spilling himself inside of her, Severus murmured quietly, "I suppose we ought to sleep a while."

"Perhaps," Hermione admitted, and she yawned a little quite against her will. Somehow, she managed to fall asleep curled up against Severus' shoulder, but two hours later she was groggily kissing him as he entered her gently from behind once more.

"Is this real?" Hermione asked him finally, when he'd finished and lay panting upon his back. "What I'm feeling now, it seems too strong. Is it real?"
"I believe," Severus said carefully, dragging the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip, "that is more real than it has ever been."

She kissed him again, leaning down to press her lips against his, and drifted off to sleep with her ear to his chest.

In the morning, when she made her way to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione resolved not to be embarrassed by the Fat Lady, and so she brazenly Disillusioned herself and clipped out the password, and she marched up to the girls' dormitory to find Lavender Brown the last one still getting ready for breakfast.

"Hermione?" Lavender asked with some measure of disbelief, turning round from where she stood before a full-length mirror plaiting her hair into two neat braids. Lavender scowled at Hermione, at the vintage white dress she wore, and she demanded, "Why are you just now coming in… and why are you wearing a wedding dress?"

Hermione cleared her throat delicately. "I believe it is all to be explained this morning," she said softly, and she moved over to her bed and opened her trunk. Severus had told her that Professor McGonagall would make an announcement after he informed her that the marriage had taken place - she had been told of the engagement, apparently. thought she would doubtlessly be shocked by the fact that it had all progressed so quickly.

Lavender stalked quickly over to stand behind Hermione. She cleared her throat primly and said in a very tight voice, "Hermione, have you… have you gotten married?"

Hermione sighed a bit, knowing that today was going to be awkward all around, and she faced Lavender and rolled her eyes. "Yes," she huffed, "I'm married. I got married last night. Satisfied?"

"Here, in the castle?" Lavender asked disbelievingly. Her pale eyes went wide and she whispered, "To whom?"

Hermione swallowed heavily and felt her heart race. Thank goodness there was to be one giant, terribly uncomfortable announcement, she considered, rather than she and Severus having to notify everyone all at once. Hermione took a shaking breath and squared her jaw. "To Sev - to the Headmaster. To Professor Snape."

Lavender's mouth dropped open like a fish, and she looked as though someone had just told her the colors purple and pink no longer existed. Then a look of serious resolution came over her peaky face and she grabbed Hermione's shoulder.

"Right," she said firmly. "Come with me."

Hermione wrenched herself away from Lavender and scowled. "Excuse me?"

"I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey straight away," Lavender insisted. "Something is obviously very wrong - someone's cursed you, or slipped you a potion. Come now, Hermione. Madam Pomfrey shall get it all sorted out for you." She reached again for Hermione's arm, and Hermione recoiled angrily.

"Stop it, Lavender!" she cried roughly, and then she felt rather awful when she saw the expression of hurt and confusion cross the other girl's face. She was not ashamed of Severus, not in the slightest. But she had to admit it would be difficult for anyone else to accept that she was really, truly in love with him. He had made something of a career out of being difficult and unpleasant. Without any further basis for liking the man, Hermione could see why one might not understand an attraction to him straight away. So she was unsurprised, and less angry, when she heard Lavender say softly, crumpling her brow,

"But, Hermione… he's the Headmaster. He was our teacher for six years. And… it's Professor Snape. You can't in your right mind…"

"I'm of age, Lavender," Hermione said tersely, deciding that it was not going to work to explain her relationship with Severus to every doubtful soul. "And I bear him great affection. That is the extent of it that you need to know. Now, please, will you help with these buttons so that I can take a quick shower before we're both late for breakfast?"

She turned round and put the back of her wedding dress to Lavender, who confusedly unfastened the small pearl buttons in silence.


The Great Hall quieted a bit when Hermione stepped through the doors, and about three dozen curious faces turned to ogle her. It was in that instant that Hermione realized Lavender Brown was not very good at keeping her mouth shut, and that rumors had spread through the Great Hall like wildfire in the ten minutes she was running behind everyone else.

Hermione tipped her chin up a little, not looking up to the Staff Table at all, and slid into a bench at the Gryffindor Table. She felt her cheeks grow hot as she took an apple from the fruit bowl and ladled herself a bit of porridge. She pulled out a book from her bag and pretended to read it while nibbling upon her breakfast, but she could hear whispers frantically starting back up all around her. She was able to catch a few words before she resolutely tuned everyone out.

"It can't be true," someone behind her mumbled, "It's just ridiculous."

"Married? I mean, I reckon I could see if they'd just shagged, but..."

"It's Snape. Preposterous. I refuse to believe it."

Perhaps what hurt Hermione more than anything else was everyone's apparent inability or unwillingness to accept that there might be a genuine relationship between herself and Severus. From Ginny and Lavender to the anonymous, quiet whispers around her, all Hermione could hear was that Severus was revolting and the match was must be a joke. It angered her and hurt her, but she could scarcely imagine how Severus must feel.

"Good morning, Hermione!"

She glanced up to see Luna Lovegood hovering above her, holding out a large stone. It was lumpy, smooth, and creamy colored with veins of dark green running through it.

"Erm… good morning, Luna," Hermione greeted, and she flicked her eyes down to the smooth stone. "That's lovely!"

"It's a wedding gift!" Luna said serenely, and she held out the large stone further. Hermione felt a bit as though someone had punched her in the stomach. Around her, there was cruelty and disbelief and mockery about her marriage to Severus, but here was Luna with a gift. Hermione's eyes burned a little as she took the heavy stone, still not knowing quite what it was. It didn't matter. It was given in good will.

"Thank you, Luna," she whispered, her voice cracking a little as she stared down at the green-veined rock.

"It's moss agate," Luna explained patiently. "Agates in general are wonderfully healing to have about. They can be used to counteract dangerous potions of many types, though I'm sure Professor Snape knows about that use. But they're also wonderful to keep on a bedside table. If they're near your head while you sleep, you'll have the most wonderful dreams!"

Luna grinned happily and nodded with enthusiasm. Hermione was not sure how true that fact could be, but again was struck by the utter thoughtfulness of the gift. She could not stop the stubborn tear that tumbled out of her eye and trailed down her cheek.

"Thank you, Luna," she said again.

"Congratulations to the happy couple," Luna murmured warmly, and she patted Hermione's shoulder before turning round and walking away. Hermione stared at the moss agate for a very long moment before tucking it carefully into her bag and swiping at her eye with the back of her hand. She returned her attention to her breakfast for a few minutes, until Professor McGonagall's magically-amplified voice boomed decisively through the Great Hall.

"May I have your attention, please? Students? Put down your forks and knives, if you please, and be silent. Attention to the front."

The students of Hogwarts had learned quickly over the past few weeks that discipline was no longer a joke at the school, so even though it was trusty old Professor McGonagall asking for attention, all conversations went immediately quiet.

"Thank you," Professor McGonagall trilled, and then she coughed rather delicately as she lowered her wand from her throat and sighed, turning over her shoulder to stare helplessly at Severus for a moment. Hermione actually felt rather terrible for Professor McGonagall just then, as she realized how awkward her marriage to Severus was for other people, too.

How could Professor Flitwick give her anything less than an Outstanding on her Charms N.E.W.T.? The poor man would feel terrified of Severus if he were to mark down the Headmaster's wife on her exams. Not that Hermione planned on doing poorly on Professor Flitwick's exams, but, still…

If she were to break the rules (something she had been known to do) and was caught by Pomona Sprout in the corridors, how could the head of House Hufflepuff be expected to assign her detentions? Particularly, Hermione considered, now that detentions often entailed the use of Unforgivable Curses? How could it be expected that Hermione would be held to the same standards as the other students?

She wouldn't, of course. She wouldn't be held to the same standards because she wasn't the same anymore. She was the wife of the Headmaster, and even as an eighteen-year-old (perhaps especially then) this was more of a mark of shame than a distinction of honor.

Hermione felt a sudden flush of anxiety as Professor McGonagall turned round to speak again. The old witch cleared her throat carefully, and beside her Hermione saw Severus perched rather tightly in the Headmaster's chair, his hands folded together upon the table. Even from here, she could see his knuckles were white with tension, and his lips were pursed a bit with unease. He looked severe and disagreeable, if Hermione was honest.

That's not helping, Severus, she thought. Try not to look as though we're sentencing everyone to be executed.

"I would like to extend my most heartfelt congratulations," Minerva McGonagall began, though there was empty sort of disdain behind her words, "to our headmaster, Professor Snape, and to his new bride."

Unsurprisingly, a great number of faces turned toward Hermione in that instant, and the Great Hall erupted with furious whispers.

"See? See? I told you so… This is absurd. He can't… no, she's too… what? What?"

The words circulating around were of disbelief, of shock, of thinly-veiled ridicule. Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot at once, felt her ears ring, and she tried to swallow but found herself quite unable to do so. She glanced further down the Gryffindor table and saw Ginny Weasley staring at her, just like everyone else. Ginny smiled sadly, and Hermione suddenly wished the two of them had not been arguing so much recently. It would have been nice to have Ginny for a friend just then.

"Miss Hermione Granger has… erm… wed… Professor Snape… and we wish them all the best of luck and happiness as they… erm..." Professor McGonagall was stumbling all over her words as she struggled to speak over the drone in the Hall and to overcome her own apparent discomfort.

Hermione shut her eyes and huffed, feeling frustrated. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Severus had risen from the Headmaster's Chair and was looming imperiously over the Staff Table.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he clipped rather harshly, and McGonagall sat down quickly, seeming grateful to be relieved from her botched announcement duties. The students in the hall quieted the very instant that Severus stood up. He sniffed lightly and glared around the Great Hall. Around him, the Hogwarts staff looked just as alarmed as the student body, and the reactions would have been amusing if Hermione wasn't so preoccupied with feeling humiliated.

There seemed to be three factions among the staff: the Shocked, the Saddened, and the Bored. In the Shocked category were Professors Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn, Hooch, and Sinistra. These professors in particular bore expressions upon their faces of abject incredulity, with eyes wide and mouths agape. Then there were those who looked as though they'd been informed of a death. Professors Vector, Sprout, and Trelawney fit nicely into this category, as did Hagrid, who was staring straight at Hermione and shaking his head (having moved to 'Saddened' very quickly from being 'Shocked.'). Then there were the instructors who just looked bored, and Hermione realized they'd known about the marriage already and thus were not receiving any news. The Carrows, for example, seemed unaffected by McGonagall's announcement. Hermione figured Severus must have informed them in private in order to maintain appearances with the Death Eaters. The centaur Firenze, who co-taught Divination, stood in the corner with a blank expression upon his countenance. Hermione was not certain how Firenze knew already, but he seemed so unsurprised that she was convinced he was not being told anything novel.

Severus cleared his throat once and spoke, his voice a glossy clip. "I am well-aware that there are some among you who may view this news as fodder for a disdain of the school, or of myself. I do not much care for the opinions of others, particularly on matters such as this. Please be advised that… If I had wanted a twelve-year-old's advice on marriage, Mr. Turnbridge, I would have asked directly. Be silent."

He glared down at a second-year Gryffindor who had begun whispering madly to a student beside him. The boy reddened and nodded, shrinking into himself like a tortoise. Around the Great Hall, students shifted on their benches rather anxiously. Severus sniffed again and continued,

"This announcement changes precisely nothing for any of you in your everyday lives. I advise you to think nothing more of it, much less to discuss it among yourselves… I am not foolish enough to believe that will not happen, wont as you all are to mindless gossip. But be advised that the Ministry of Magic is strongly encouraging those of half-blood ancestry to enter into marriages such as this in order to strengthen the 'two-parent Magical population.'"

There was another eruption of noise, then, as students buzzed among themselves. Severus' words meant two things, both of them sensational. The Ministry was to have a policy on marriage, first of all. Secondly, that policy was primarily for the purpose of procreation… and Professor Snape had married Hermione Granger under that policy… meaning that Professor Snape was going to procreate with Hermione Granger. The scandalous broadcast had sent a shockwave through a Great Hall. Severus waited a brief moment, and then he hissed,

"Silence!"

The Hall fell quiet as the grave. As intrigued as the students were, they were still terrified of Severus. He simply loomed for a moment, letting his intimidating presence wash over the Hogwarts community before he said softly,

"You have five minutes to finish your breakfasts. Tardiness to any lessons today is to be punished with a minimum of three detentions. Any lapse in productivity will not be tolerated."

He sat back down and took a delicate drink of pumpkin juice from his goblet, and Hermione once again felt her cheeks grow very warm with embarrassment and worry. He'd not been maudlin; he'd not spoken of how pleased he was to marry her. That was all well and good - it would have been terribly out-of-character for Severus to do so. He'd handled it all wonderfully, she thought… right up until he'd been a bit of a wanker to the entire student body by cutting short breakfast and threatening them with torturous detentions.

Indeed, many glared turned toward her as the students registered that not only was she now married to their Headmaster, but that their Headmaster was still something of an oppressor. Hermione tensed and held her breath as judgmental eyes looked her up and down from all sides.

Married to the enemy, most of the Gryffindors seemed to say, and thus the enemy herself.

Half-blood at best, most Slytherin eyes seemed to sneer, and I still don't buy that she's not a Mudblood.

Reckon she'll fall pregnant within a month or two, said most Ravenclaw stares, and her life'll be over. Shame.

She always seemed nice enough, it seemed the Hufflepuffs wanted to say, but look at what's happened now!

Hermione rather wished she had Severus' gift of Legilimency at that moment, but then quickly realized that would have been a curse. She could read people's thoughts plainly enough upon their faces without hearing their internal narratives.

She turned back to the apple and porridge she'd been eating, long gone cold. She warmed the porridge with a brief charm and scarfed it quickly, knowing she was just as subject to Severus' time limit on breakfast as anyone else.

"Erm… Hermione?" Ginny Weasley said quietly, sliding down the bench toward her. Hermione gulped down the hot porridge in her mouth and sniffed self-defensively.

"Morning, Ginny," she said, trying to sound as though today were any other day. She braced herself for the inevitable rude comments she knew she should expect from Ginny, but instead the other girl blushed deeply and said,

"I hope he makes you happy, Hermione." Ginny blinked and licked her lips carefully, casting down her eyes with a bit of shame. "I'm sorry I was cruel. I didn't understand. I still don't, and I can't pretend to. But it isn't my business, I suppose. I don't wish for there to be this terrible tension between us, and I hope somehow we can be friends again."

Hermione thought that was awfully big of Ginny, among all the madness, and so she nodded and smiled a little. "I would like that."


By three in the afternoon, Severus had entertained no fewer than five staff members and four Howlers in his office. The angriest of all the staff members, probably, was Hagrid. The old gamekeeper felt he'd been personally deceived in some way by not being informed of the budding romance between Severus and Hermione, and he was crushed and heartbroken to see Hermione married off to Severus. He voiced that opinion - loudly - until Dumbledore's portrait calmly told him to go check after the gnome infestation that was rumored to be rampant in the school gardens.

The Howlers were from parents who had received owls from their children. Unwise, Severus thought, to send an angry letter to the school at a time like this. He tried to ignore the shrieking envelopes, but the one from Neville Longbottom's grandmother was especially vile.

"My dear sir - I can only hope this letter finds you in ill health so that poor Miss Granger is soon enough rendered a widow! I find it utterly preposterous that a man your age should take a bride who is barely counted as an adult in the eyes of even the Ministry. Furthermore, she is still your student, as are many other pupils, in case you have forgotten! The notification that the Headmaster of Hogwarts has married a current student comes among much other worrying news of ill treatment of students. I am shocked, appalled, and disgusted. There is no excuse for your predatory behavior, Mr. Snape, and I find you to a repulsive and loathsome beast! Good day!"

Perhaps Augusta Longbottom did not realize, Severus considered, that angering Severus would give him every legal right to treat Neville Longbottom the same way his parents had been treated. He was not Bellatrix and he would never use the Cruciatus upon anyone so far as to drive them to insanity. Nonetheless, he thought bitterly, the old Mrs. Longbottom would do well to remember that her grandson was in a vulnerable place, surrounded by dangerous people. He watched the Howler destroy itself and sighed.

Septima Vector came in around two-thirty, strutting through the doorway in crimson velvet robes and looking stern as ever.

"Headmaster," she said tightly, and Severus scowled a bit at her tone.

"Good afternoon, Septima," Severus greeted her, setting down her quill. Professor Vector stepped further into the office and pinched her lips.

"Hermione Granger is my brightest pupil," she said without any further pretense. Severus opened his mouth to say something, but Vector continued, "I have only four students in Advanced Arithmancy this term, and only I whom I expect to earn an 'Outstanding' upon the N.E.W.T. That is Miss Granger. I happen to know that my subject area is her favorite. Someday she might be a particularly skilled Curse-Breaker, or an author of texts. She's got a bit of Bridget Wenlock in her."

"I am well aware of Ms. Granger's predisposition for Arithmancy," Severus said coolly. He carefully altered the pronunciation of Hermione's honorific, but left her surname intact. He assumed that she would keep her surname. "Is there something specific you need, Septima?"

Septima Vector sighed briskly. "I know you do not put much stock into the arts that predict the future, Severus," she admitted. "I know you are a man who values constancy and rigidity of formula in your subject material."

Severus frowned but flicked his eyebrows up in assent. Septima continued,

"However, I wish for you to know that I have run number charts this morning… for you and Miss Granger under various circumstances." She extracted several sheets of parchment from her robes and handed them to Severus, who furrowed his brow and stared at them. They were a knotty patchwork of numbers in rows and columns, some scratched out and replaced, others underlined or circled. Severus had never taken the elective course in Arithmancy and had only rudimentary skill in the subject. He shrugged briskly at Septima.

"And?"

Septima Vector coughed delicately. "Might I ask, Headmaster, whether you partook in a vow of Magnum Verbum Honoris to seal your marriage to Miss Granger?"

"Indeed I did," Severus admitted, hesitance creeping through his voice. He tented his fingertips upon the desk. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Vector began, "When I was running charts, I started by attempting to run them for you individually - that is, for your individual life paths. The problem I encountered was that there were no individual life paths. No matter what happens at this point, any chart I make for either of you directly affects the other, wholly and completely. I attempted to write a chart predicting the future should your marriage fail - forgive me, but I found it a reasonable variable. However, the chart would not complete. The equations simply made so sense. What I found was that your marriage can not end, except in death. I concluded there must have been a vow of Magnum Verbum Honoris… something, I admit, about which I have heard, but something I have never experienced first-hand."

Severus swallowed heavily. He looked down at the number charts again and squared his jaw. "You still seem quite concerned, Septima."

The Arithmancy professor sighed again and nibbled her bottom lip anxiously. "It's just - I was unable to complete any chart, Severus, where either of you…"

She trailed off then, and Severus felt a sinking feeling in his gut. "Where either of us what?" he demanded, crinkling the parchments in his fist as he grew irritated. Septima parted her lips a little and said sorrowfully,

"I was unable to complete any chart that extended beyond five years," she admitted. "Sometimes they ended much sooner. Sometimes farther out toward that five year mark. Always close together. But love life? No. You've cursed her, Severus…"

Septima sounded quite emotional now, as the normally stoic witch snatched back her number charts and glared petulantly at the Headmaster. "You might have simply married the girl, you know. This vow you've taken… one bound within it can not live long without the other. If you were to fall for any reason, so too would she. There is nothing I could do, no numbers or equations or variables or changes… nothing could make her an old woman."

"Why are you telling me this?" Severus demanded softly, his voice a mournful hiss in the quiet of the office. "If nothing can be done, then why are you telling me this?"

"There was only one thing," Septima said, and she sounded a little confused, "one word that kept coming up… it extended charts farther than anything else, and once I began inserting it into equations, I saw open pathways… no guarantees, no end games… but possibilities, perhaps."

"A word." Severus shook his head and tossed up a shoulder in confusion. "A word. What word?"

Septima Vector pawed anxiously through the sheets of number charts until she found the one she was looking for, and then she thrust it forth to Severus. She jabbed her finger down and spelled aloud, "'L-O-C-K-E-T.'"


Severus stalked up to Malfoy Manor with a veil of artifical confidence. His left arm was on fire, and he knew exactly why. But when he admitted himself through the front door and walked briskly up the stone stairwell, he adopted an air of nonchalant ignorance.

He entered the dining room and saw a small but familiar crowd gathered. Lucius Malfoy looked more haggard than ever, and possibly drunk, where he sat somewhat slumped in an ornate chair. Beside him, looking significantly more regal and put-together, was Narcissa. Two chairs down was Bellatrix, who raised her eyebrows and drummed her fingertips, feigning boredom. Across from her, in a visual dichotomy for the ages, was the pink-sheathed figure of Dolores Umbridge. Around her neck, the dull yellow locket still hung, and Severus swallowed a little and quickly averted his eyes at the sight of it. There were a few others around the table - Yaxley, Travers, and Selwyn. At the head of the table, as always, was Voldemort, and before him Nagini was coiled in a content-looking pile.

Severus could not help remembering that Ronald Weasley was being kept captive somewhere in the house, and that Harry Potter was hiding in Hogsmeade, and that distracted him long enough that he must have looked blank in the face, for someone cleared their throat in an odd way. Severus snapped to.

"Severus," Voldemort greeted, "please sit down."

Severus did, leaving three seats between himself and Dolores Umbridge so that he was rather far away from everyone else.

"I understand congratulations are in order," Voldemort said smoothly, drawing his fingertips over Nagini's scales. Severus flicked his eyes around the table, trying to discern how it was the Dark Lord had discovered his marriage so quickly.

"Draco sent an owl this morning," said Narcissa, "and so did Amycus Carrow."

"I see," Severus murmured. He turned to Voldemort. "I had intended to come later this evening, My Lord, to speak with you directly… in private…" He dragged his eyes toward Bellatrix as if to express to her that he had no wish to discuss this issue in the woman's presence. She just smirked and raised an eyebrow up in sarcastic flirtation.

"Well, here you are now," Voldemort pronounced. "You have documentation? Or witnesses?"

So the Dark Lord did not entirely believe Severus. He shifted a little in his seat. "It was Magnum Verbum Honoris, My Lord."

Across the table, Bellatrix gasped a little, and Narcissa Malfoy sat up much straighter.

"Oh, my! Hem-hem!" exclaimed Dolores Umbridge from beside Severus, and he scowled at her. Bellatrix put her hands flat upon the table and glared at Severus,

"You've bound yourself to that little wench for all eternity?" she sneered. "You really are a bloody fool, aren't you, Snape?"

"Be silent, Bellatrix!" Voldemort snapped at her in a hiss, and her eyes went wide as her cheeks darkened. She looked as though she'd swallowed a frog as she shrank back and murmured,

"Forgive me, My Lord."

Voldemort narrowed his reptilian eyes at Bellatrix for a long moment before saying, "All of the rest of you… out. Severus, stay."

The others in attendance rose immediately and made a swift departure through the French doors, which were quickly shut with a little click.

"Now, then," Voldemort said matter-of-factly to Severus, "The Great Word of Honor. Awfully expeditious of you - I am grateful you followed my orders so quickly. But so thoroughly. Why, Severus?"

Severus hesitated. "I did not have any desire for a grand ceremony, My Lord," he admitted. "It would have been quite against my nature. The announcement was made this morning to the student body… House-elves are moving her belongings to my quarters tonight, and -"

"And you'll have her pregnant soon enough, will you?" Voldemort asked smoothly, petting Nagini thoughtfully. Severus felt his cheeks redden, and he cleared his throat a little. He decided to give an answer that was neither an untruth nor anything likely to get a Cruciatus Curse hurled at him.

"I should think, My Lord, that what went on between myself and Ms. Granger last night was an… enthusiastic… entry into traditional marriage activities. The Magnum Verbum Honoris rather strengthens one's appetite for -"

"I did not ask whether or not she sufficiently aroused you, Severus," Voldemort sneered, "I am asking whether or not there will be a swift and conscious effort for the girl to conceive a symbol of the Ministry's commitment to the Magical-born population."

Severus felt nauseated with humiliation and disgust. So, even if Hermione were to fall pregnant, any child of theirs would be quickly snatched up by Voldemort as a totem of Eugenics… and based on a fallacy, at that, since Hermione was truly Muggle-born. The deception would get them all killed - Severus, Hermione, and some unknown small child. It was unacceptable. Knowing he had to lie convincingly, Severus threw up every mental defense he had. Boundless still lakes with black starlit skies overhead filled his mind. He squared his jaw and said to Voldemort,

"I shall make every attempt to put a child in her as quickly as possible, My Lord."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, Severus knew that there were charts saying they'd both be dead within five years. There were enemies all around. There were N.E.W.T.s to finish. There was absolutely no way Hermione would conceive - not on his watch.

But Voldemort seemed convinced, and he nodded his satisfaction. "Go back to Hogwarts, Severus," he said boredly, flicking his wrist in dismissal. "You undoubtedly have much business to attend to as Headmaster… and a pretty young bride waiting for you in your bed."

Severus rose and bowed a bit, turning to stride from the room.

"Severus?" Voldemort called after him nonchalantly, and Severus turned round to raise his eyes hesitantly. The Dark Lord looked rather amused and said, "You're not wearing a wedding ring."

"Oh…" Severus glanced down at his bare left hand. "No, My Lord. Such trappings… well, suffice it to say that the connection between two people bound with Magnum Verbum Honoris is strong enough to not require jewelry."

"But others around you can not see your powerful bond," Voldemort said rather gleefully, and he beckoned with a bony finger. "Come."

Severus felt a sense of dread as he stepped toward the Dark Lord, who held his wand up in the air and shut his eyes, thinking hard as he drew the tip of his wand in a neat circle. The powerful Dark wizard managed to conjure a fairly impressive-looking ring, which, when he handed it to Severus, felt heavy and solid. It was a very dark grey metal, almost black in color, and shiny except for a band of brushed finish around the outside. It looked almost menacing. Severus swallowed heavily.

"Put it on." Voldemort watched carefully as Severus slipped the ring onto his finger. Severus anticipated some sort of curse or spell to hit him when he did, but he felt no different with the ring on than with it off.

"Tungsten carbide," Voldemort said with a bit of self-satisfaction. "Very strong, very hard. Can only be removed by shattering it should it become stuck." He smirked up at Severus. "But a married man needs a visible symbol for the public, no?"

"Of course, my Lord," Severus agreed, and he bowed again. "Thank you." He turned to walk from the room, and this time Voldemort let him go.

He was almost out of Malfoy Manor when he saw Dolores Umbridge in an adjoining sitting-room, speaking in a quiet but still squeaky voice to Yaxley. Severus paused and thought hard for a moment, and then he glided into the sitting-room.

"Yaxley, would you be so kind as to give me a moment to speak with Madam Umbridge?" Severus flicked his mouth up unkindly at Yaxley, who shrugged and left the room briskly. Severus cast a nonverbal Muffliato after Yaxley left.

"Hello, Severus," Dolores greeted him, and Severus wanted nothing more than to slap her straight across the face. Aside from being impermissible (due to her being not only female, but a high-ranking Ministry official), unwise, and rather immature, the appeal was strong. Severus had never been quite so repulsed by a human as he was by Dolores, but tonight he needed to finish a conversation with her. Before he could speak, though, she said in her too-cheery tone, "I am glad you stopped in on way out the door. I had meant to ask if you would be so kind as to send over Hogwarts' student records to the Ministry."

Severus frowned. "Which records?" he asked.

"Oh! Hem-hem! All of them!" Dolores clarified gleefully. "We must know which students and alumni of Hogwarts for the past seventy years or so have been of Mudblood origin. The school keeps careful record of parentage. You see, we've had quite the issue with, erm… 'runners.' We've had to initiate quite the effort to track down those unwilling to face the charges against them. This would be easier done with proper records to not only identify and find these criminals, but also to convict them in the Wizengamot. So, if you please… I shall need those records as soon as it is convenient for you. Shall I expect them tomorrow?"

Severus squared his jaw and growled a little. "I shall send them promptly," he promised with a little nod. Then he decided to do what it was he'd come in the room for in the first place. He pulled up the palm of his right hand and centered all of his magic in his solar plexus, packing it into a whirling, dense ball. He sent it forth from his hand in a steady stream of energy and thought, 'Confundo!'

The Confundus Charm hit Dolores Umbridge like a sudden hit of a drug, and she shuddered in place and looked momentarily as though she might faint before recovering. Her eyes were a bit glassy as she smiled like a mannequin and reached behind her neck to unclasp the silver chain of her necklace.

"Did I ever get round to showing you my new bit of jewelry?" Dolores asked, and Severus feigned interest.

"No, indeed not," he said, taking the locket quickly from her and stuffing it into the inside pocket of his frock coat. "It's lovely."

"Yes… do take it to Miss Granger as a wedding gift, will you?" Dolores suggested, "On behalf of the Ministry?"

"Splendid idea," Severus nodded briskly, his voice low and smooth as he focused on the Confundus Charm's specifics. "You won't remember ever wearing it in the first place, will you, Dolores?"

"Wearing what?" she asked, and Severus nodded.

"Precisely. Good evening, Dolores."

He strode hastily from the sitting-room, leaving a rather confused-looking Dolores Umbridge in his wake. He lifted his Muffliato as he left the room, and as he walked from Malfoy Manor he heard Yaxley and Dolores Umbridge quietly resume their conversation about Ministry employees forging family trees.

Severus made his way out through the gate on the edge of the grounds, feeling heavy and melancholy. He could practically feel the locket in his frock coat, and he knew at once something was wrong with it. Then he glanced down to the 'wedding band' Voldemort had put on his finger, and he thought perhaps there was something wrong with that, too.

All he could hope was that Hermione would have at least one answer or another, and that being in her presence might improve his ever-worsening mood to some degree.


"The most real and ever-present danger to the Magical community is a widespread discovery of our powers by the Muggle world at large. Say, for example, that a breach of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy were to occur whilst millions of Muggles watched on their telly-visioning devices! How could Ministry Obliviators or International Task Forces possibly be expected to effectively eliminate the knowledge of the Magical world from so many Muggles?"

Alecto Carrow was pacing rather anxiously in front of the seventh-year Muggle Studies class, her hands knitting into one another tightly behind the back of her dark brocade robes. It was unseasonably warm, and though the windows had been flung open and a little Cooling Charm placed upon the classroom, Alecto's brow glistened with sweat. She snorted a bit and continued snidely,

"Then what would those same Muggles do once they had widespread knowledge of our powers? They would seek to steal them. They would seek to harvest our magic from us - kill us, destroy us, but take our magic for themselves. Their technology is now to the point where this might be a dangerous and real possibility. The only way for the Magical community to survive is to separate itself entirely and wholly from the Muggle world. All interaction with Muggles in modern society is to be considered extremely dangerous and most unwise. It should be illegal, probably."

Hermione felt her brow crumple as she watched Alecto speak, but she knew she could say nothing. She thought of Carlotta Pinkstone, the witch who had famously campaigned for the repeal of the International Statute of Secrecy and had spent years in Azkaban for it. Carlotta Pinkstone had been known to be extremely gifted with wandless magic, Hermione knew. Suddenly she found herself wanting Pinkstone's Chocolate Frog card, just so she could look at someone who was the opposite of Alecto Carrow.

The lesson that day seemed interminable - full of hate and paranoia, and Hermione was anxious to gather her books and be gone from the classroom as quickly as possible when Alecto dismissed them. She hustled out into the corridor and was briskly walking away from the Muggle Studies classroom when she heard a soft voice behind her.

"Hermione?"

She whirled round and rolled her eyes when she saw that it was Ginny Weasley. Hermione simply was not in the mood just now for a lengthy discussion with Ginny about anything. Conversations with Ginny tended to make her very tired. But then Ginny just nodded gently and held out a small scroll, which Hermione could see had been sealed with a messy glob of dark red candle wax.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, pulling over into a secluded alcove of the corridor. Ginny followed her and a little line of worry appeared between her ginger eyebrows.

"Erm… it's… it's from Harry," she whispered, and she swallowed visibly. Hermione felt her eyes go wide, felt her mouth drop open, and she demanded in a low hiss,

"Harry?! How did you…"

Ginny chomped anxiously on her lip. "I have my ways of contacting people, too, Hermione," she said rather cryptically. Then she looked as though she was going to cry, and she said in a cracked whisper, "Ron's in great danger. I don't know if you heard it on the radio. That she-devil Dolores Umbridge came on, Mum said, and announced that Ron had been 'apprehended attempting to thieve from the Ministry of Magic on behalf of Undesirable Number One, Harry Potter.' They're holding him captive. Mum said the announcement was made to lure Harry to Malfoy Manor, but then Harry got in contact with by…" She paused and raised her eyes to Hermione, her cheeks coloring. "Well, anyway, he was in the Shrieking Shack. But you knew that. He wanted me to give you this."

She glanced down to the scroll that Hermione now held in her hands. Hermione sighed lightly and asked Ginny with a frown, "Are the Order going to try to rescue Ron?"

Ginny gulped and her cheeks darkened further. "I can't talk to you about it any more, I'm afraid," she admitted. "I was just meant to give you that letter from Harry."

"Is he still there?" Hermione demanded, squeezing the scroll. "Can I go and see him?"

Ginny shook her head vehemently. "No," she insisted. "He's gone somewhere else. I can't discuss it any more, Hermione. Just read the letter from Harry; whatever he wants you to know is inside it. Goodbye."

With that, Ginny turned on her heel and walked quickly away, and Hermione was left feeling shaken and disturbed in the corridor. Knowing full well she would be tardy to Advanced Arithmancy, Hermione turned her back to the wall and slumped a little as she unfurled the scroll. The small wax seal crumbled weakly and the parchment felt dry and old. She frowned as she read Harry's trademark messy scrawl.

'Dear Hermione… or are you to be addressed as 'Madam Snape' from now on? I can't say I was the least bit pleased to hear you'd married Snape. I can't pretend to understand it. I saw him kill Dumbledore, and to know he's your husband now changes a lot of things, not many for the better.

But I guess Congratulations are in order just the same. You've always been a dear friend, Hermione, and the smartest person I've ever met. I can't imagine you would do something like this without a damn good reason.

So, Congratulations, I suppose.

Ron and I were caught when we were trying to get something very important from the Ministry of Magic - a locket that Dolores Umbridge had. I'm not sure if she's still got it. The important thing is that we are pretty sure it is one of V's 'receptacles.' Somehow that locket needs to get away from Umbridge and into your hands or mine. I would say Ron's, but it seems he's in a bit of a pickle at the moment.

Don't come looking for me, Hermione. I know exactly where you are, and you should allow me to contact you rather than the other way round - safer for everyone. I've been told to rest assured you are still my friend. I really hope that's true. I need a good friend just about now… and a clever one, too.

Harry'

Hermione frowned deeply and sighed a shuddering little breath. Severus had told her that when he'd used Legilimency on Ron, the young man had shoved forth thoughts of an amber locket around Umbridge's neck. Severus had no idea what the significance of the locket was, but now Hermione did. It was a Horcrux.

She took out her wand and swept it over the paper. "Evanesco," she murmured, and the scroll Vanished into non-being.


It was past nine o'clock when Hermione shoved her textbooks into her bag and left the Gryffindor Common Room. She'd decided it would be most wise to spend a few hours every evening studying in the Common Room so that her fellow students did not perceive her to believe herself entitled or 'special' just because she'd married the Headmaster.

Of course, the idea that a few hours in a Common Room could override the widespread revulsion, judgment, and ridicule that Hermione had been forced to endure was entirely ludicrous.

The whole day had been hell, she thought as she ambled through the corridors and made her way down to Severus' - and her own - dungeon chambers. At dinner, Severus had left quickly, and she'd figured he'd been summoned with his Mark. But that only served to put the cherry atop a terrible day following the morning announcement of their marriage.

There were the whispers behind her back, and in front of her face, in corridors and classrooms. There were the odd, appraising stares from seemingly every pair of eyes. Hermione thought perhaps she would have preferred direct comments, but none came. Only paranoia-inducing stares and whispers, for the entire day. Hell.

So when she walked into Severus' - their - sitting-room and found it empty, she sank into an armchair, lit a fire in the fireplace, and cried for a half hour solid. Finally she grew tired of crying and stripped off her clothes in a bit of a rage, scrubbing herself furiously in the black-tiled shower. She came out wrapped in a plush black towel and was rummaging through her trunk (which the House Elves had brought down) for a proper nightgown when the door opened and quietly shut.

"Good evening," Hermione huffed rather harshly. Severus' feet clicked softly upon the floor as he stalked into the room. When Hermione saw his dragon-hide boots appear in her peripheral vision, she glanced up from where she knelt before her trunk. Severus was looking down at her with something very strange in his eyes, an expression Hermione was having difficulty reading. "What's wrong now?" she asked, feeling impatient and frustrated.

Severus swallowed, his Adam's Apple bobbing as his cold black eyes bored into Hermione's and then coursed down over her body with a searing dark light.

"Today was very… odd… and not entirely pleasant for me," he admitted tightly, shifting a bit upon his feet. Hermione frowned as she watched his hands ball into white-knuckled fists at his sides and then release. She could sense waves of jittery disquiet coming off of him, but there was something else there, too.

It wasn't visible. It was as if Hermione could feel it inside her own veins, a sensation of dread and anxiety that resided in her body but did not belong to her. Suddenly she understood exactly what Severus meant. He'd been feeling her emotions all day, and it felt, as he'd said, 'odd.'

That explained quite a bit, Hermione reckoned… why mid-afternoon she'd been struck with a sudden and inexplicable spike of fear she could neither pin down nor explain. Why tonight at dinner her arm had started aching - distantly, somewhere in the marrow of her bones and yet not in her own arm at all. She'd glanced up to see Severus rising briskly from the Headmaster's Chair, knowing he'd been summoned by Voldemort.

It had been the Magnum Verbum Honoris, she knew. Their marriage vows - their bonding to one another - extended so deeply into the level of the soul that their perceptions, emotions, and experiences were now inextricably linked. In many ways, she knew, it had the potential to be wonderful and to bring them ever closer together. In other ways, it could be very unpleasant and even dangerous. She stared up into Severus' eyes and studied the way they glimmered in the firelight, raven-black and sharp and flinty.

"I can feel you, too," she murmured, nodding her understanding. "It is… strange. Wonderful. Frightening."

Severus reached down to where she knelt before her trunk, where she'd been searching for a nightgown. She had not yet cast a drying charm upon her hair, and it hung in damp clumps around her face. Severus brushed his slender fingers over her sodden tresses and then delved his hand against her scalp, tangling his fingers into the wet strands and rubbing a bit at her scalp. Hermione felt her eyes flutter shut at the feel of him, at the sensation of warm energy flowing from his body into hers at the spot where he was touching her.

A low little sound made its way, quite of its own accord, out of the spot in Hermione's throat where she kept her magic, and she felt a jolt of moisture between her legs when she sensed Severus' heart and breath accelerating.

"Stand up," he ordered her, his normally silky voice a hoarse whisper. Hermione opened her eyes and looked to his again, and now she saw nothing but hunger there. He wanted her. Now. She could feel that more strongly than any feeling of her own.

Hermione shut the lid of her trunk and pushed off it to stand, feeling a bit woozy on her feet as she looked up into Severus' voracious gaze. She studied his face for a long moment and admired how his skin looked warm and smooth in the light of the fire, how his strong brows were furrowed with concentration.

She could no longer disentangle her own arousal from his. She felt them both, strong and pulsing, inside her body and mind, and they fed off of one another until Hermione felt such a frenzy of energy that she thought she needed to scream or jump up and down to release it. Instead, she just reveled in the sight of Severus' hands reaching for the black towel wrapped around her torso.

The pad of his thumb flicked lightly at the terry cloth where it was tucked into itself, and the towel suddenly gave way and fell to the floor, pooling at Hermione's feet. She shivered a little, suddenly nude before him, and she watched his ravenous eyes looking over every inch of her. She felt a punch of excitement that sent more wetness between her legs, but she was quite unable to tell whether that excitement belonged to her or to Severus. It didn't really matter, she thought. Now it belonged to both of them. If she could feel it, then so could he.

"Touch me, please," she whispered, her voice mingling with the crackling of the fire. Severus reached out his trembling hand and swept his calloused fingertips over her collarbone, down over the soft curve of her breast and the flat smoothness of her belly. His long fingers delved gently between her legs, urging her thighs apart, and Hermione obliged. She tipped her head back and clenched her eyes shut and was unable to suppress a soft moan at the instant his fingertips made contact with her sex, gliding around her clitoris and entrance with an elegant rhythm.

Her own hands drifted aimlessly out and fumbled blindly for the buttons on his frock coat, and as he caressed her body, she unfastened the buttons one by one. Finally she was able to push the coat back and off of his shoulders, and it joined the towel upon the ground.

There was a light touch upon her lips - Severus' rough mouth on hers, and Hermione shuddered helplessly. She was about to move on to start working upon his white dress shirt when she heard Severus growl,

"Get on the bed. Right now."

She had no idea what had him in such a mood tonight, why he was so hungry for her. But she found that she did not mind one bit as his hands moved to grasp her waist firmly and turned her round, pushing her forward gently.

When they reached the bed, Hermione climbed up as gracefully as she could manage onto the duvet and watched with fascination as Severus nearly tore his white shirt from his trousers and removed it as hastily as possible. The boots and socks were kicked off, and the placket of his trousers was soon open. He shoved them down, along with his underwear, and Hermione gulped when she saw his erection spring forth, long and thick and visibly throbbing in the firelight.

She wanted him badly, and his own arousal was so present in her veins that she thought she might ignite from the combined desperation. She leaned back hesitantly against the pillows as Severus crawled atop the bed, looking rather like a panther stalking its prey. His dark eyes shone brighter than ever, and his hair hung in front of his face in a way that was oddly alluring. Hermione groaned a little and reached between her own thighs, rubbing lightly at her nub in an effort to assuage the buzzing sense of want inside of her.

She suddenly found herself extremely glad she'd just taken a shower, for Severus was parting her legs forcefully and lowering his head between her thighs before she knew what was happening. Hermione gasped and tensed self-consciously, wondering distantly if Severus would be disgusted by the smell or taste of her. It seemed an odd and even repulsive thing for him to do, to put his mouth there. But then his tongue dragged firmly over her clitoris and she didn't much care about anything other than how it felt.

She drove her head back against the pillow and gasped in shock. "Severus!" she cried, and then again and again she whispered and moaned his name as her fingertips dug frantically into the duvet. His tongue and lips were doing something more satisfying than she'd thought possible, and the feel of him was electric. Where his mouth touched her, his tongue pulled and pushed and pulsed on her most sensitive areas. She arched her back and cried out when he pulled her clitoris between his lips and sucked lightly, humming a groan of approval and hunger against her.

His hands were gripping her hips, holding her fast as she started to thrash and tense and writhe. His fingertips dug into her backside and his palms pressed firmly against the outsides of her thighs, and it was there that Hermione felt a thrumming energy oscillating between them.

His low voice vibrated deliciously against her as he licked and suckled and kissed the most intimate part of her, as if he were enjoying it as much as she were. She knew he could feel the intense pleasure he was giving her, and that had to be contributing to the way his back rose and fell quickly with shallow breaths as his head bobbed. She knew he could feel the way she was so close, so close to erupting with satisfaction, and that was why his silky moans were resonating more and more from his lips onto her swollen entrance.

Then, out of nowhere, there was an explosion in Hermione's mind and in her body, and a very warm tingling spread like wildfire from her sternum to her fingertips and back. Her head rushed as though she'd suddenly woken from sleep, and her ears were hot and ringing. She could feel her walls clenching arrythmically, could feel Severus' hands tighten roughly on her hips as she came. The pleasure was powerful - almost frighteningly so.

Before she could begin to recover from her climax, Hermione saw Severus sit up quickly from between her legs, his eyes flashing with a wild sense of need. He growled ferociously and pulled himself up so that there was an elbow on either side of Hermione's shoulders, and Hermione gasped in alarm as he drove himself fully into her body in one mighty thrust.

It would have hurt, perhaps, if she hadn't been so wet and inflamed and filled with pleasant sensations. The feel of his rigid member hurtling into her, impaling her and stretching her in an instant, was intensely gratifying. Hermione felt a pulsating drone, somewhere in her bones, crying out for release, and she knew it was Severus' lust.

She reached up and touched his face frantically as he started to move inside of her. He was grinding his member hard against her, stimulating her again as he pushed his pelvis onto hers.

"I want to feel you on me," Hermione said hoarsely. Then, knowing that made little sense, she clarified, "Lie on top of me…"

There was a flash of realization in Severus' onyx eyes, and then he released some of his weight from his elbows and lowered himself so that his lean chest rested against Hermione's. She sighed and grinned crookedly at the delightful feel of his heavy, warm body touching every inch of her own. The skin-to-skin contact sent currents of warm power back and forth between them, and she could more strongly feel his ecstasy mingling with her own.

Severus growled again and moved his face to bury his face between Hermione's neck and shoulder. He panted and huffed as he moved, and the warm feel of his breath made Hermione's hair stand on end. She raised her knees a little and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him more tightly against her, and her hands flew to clutch anxiously at his back.

His low, velvet voice was humming against her neck as his cock moved firmly up and down, grinding and rubbing against her in a way that made Hermione feel weak. She knew she was going to finish again; there was no helping it. He was hurtling her up to a peak so quickly that she felt very dizzy, and Hermione whimpered meekly,

"Oh! Severus, help… I can't breathe, or think, or…"

He pulled a bit of his weight off of her, transferring it back to his taut arms, and then she felt his lips kissing her neck. That wasn't helping the dizziness, Hermione thought distantly, but she didn't care anymore. His cock moved inside her in an undulating, rocking motion, and Hermione started to circle her own hips against his, meeting him thrust for thrust. Each time he pulled up and out, his rigid shaft dragged against Hermione's clitoris, and then he would plunge back down and fill her again.

It was all far too much, and she came once more with a desperate cry. Her fingers dug into his back and she felt her body clenching hard, pulling him into her with each clamp of her walls. Then, very suddenly, Severus had pulled out of her and had sat up onto his knees, gripping his cock in his hand like a weapon. Hermione stared up at him, shocked and unhappy at how hastily he'd removed his body from hers. But then she realized that they'd both completely forgotten to protect her with a spell or potion, and he had managed to remove himself before finishing inside of her. He jerked his hand a few times over his swollen, throbbing tip, and then yanked his fingers down to the base of his cock and groaned loudly.

Hermione watched, enthralled, as his seed burst forth in erratic jets, landing garishly upon her abdomen. Some got up onto her breasts, and she could not keep her fingers from reaching up to spread it a little over her skin. Severus was watching as intently as Hermione as he came upon her body, panting and gnashing his teeth as he grunted.

Then, as powerfully as she had felt his pleasure, Hermione felt the sudden spike of worry that had seeped its way into his mind as he recovered.

"Damn it," he growled softly, and he climbed very quickly off of the bed and reached for his wand inside the frock coat that lay crumpled upon the ground. He stalked nude back to the bed and cast a quick Tergeo upon Hermione, cleansing her of his spilled seed, though Hermione thought she'd like another shower for a lot of reasons.

Then Severus walked briskly to his wardrobe, reached inside and took out a dark green velvet robe, and cinched the tie around his waist tightly. He wordlessly stalked from their private quarters out into his old office, the one he'd maintained for years as Potions Master. Hermione sat up in the bed and could hear the distant clattering of bottles as he searched for something out among the endless stores of potions.

Finally, he re-entered the sitting room, shutting the door behind him, and made his way to the bed. He held out a little blue bottle to Hermione and said, "That's it… I'm sorry, but you have to take it now. I don't want to come that close to…" He pursed his lips anxiously and shook his head firmly. "I love you too much to ruin you like that. Please just take it."

Hermione reached out a shaking hand and read the label, though she knew what it would say.

Elixir Infecudum.

She removed the small cork from the bottle and hesitated before tipping it back into her mouth. "The whole thing?" she asked Severus, and he nodded grimly. Hermione sighed and drank the contents of the bottle, pulling a face at the bitter taste.

She felt nothing immediately after drinking it. She handed the empty bottle back to Severus and coughed a bit at the terrible flavor of the potion, trying hard to ignore the burning sensation in her throat. She watched Severus wince and knew he was sensing her discomfort - not as explicitly as she was, but in a vague and uncomfortable manner. He Vanished the empty vial and said,

"I'll fetch you a nightgown."

Hermione nodded and watched him go to her trunk. Beside the trunk, his clothes still lay in a rumpled heap. Hermione frowned a little when she saw a silver chain tumbling forth from the pocket of Severus' frock coat on the ground. It was dull in the firelight, but there was something about it that made Hermione keep staring.

"What is that?" she asked suddenly, and Severus looked up from her trunk to see her pointing to the silver coming from his coat.

"Oh…" Severus scowled and licked his lip carefully. He rose, a nightgown in one hand, and shut the trunk. Then he used a nonverbal Summoning charm upon the silver item, and Hermione watched something jolt from the heap on the ground up into his hand. He stalked back the bed, his hand in a fist at his side. "I had meant to give it to you immediately upon returning from my meeting," he said somewhat awkwardly, "but I was rather overcome with…"

With lust, Hermione finished for him mentally, and she just nodded. "What is it?" she asked again, and Severus raised his fist and opened it.

Lying upon his hand was an golden and amber oval, with an 'S' upon the dull surface in green glittering stones. The chain was a drab silver color, though thick and heavy-looking. Upon the oval was a latch and a hinge. At once, Hermione felt her heart race and her breath catch as she realized Severus was handing her a Horcrux - the locket Harry had mentioned in his letter.

She swallowed heavily and reached out, cautiously wrapping her fingers around the locket and taking it from Severus. She did not raise her eyes to him, but she listened as he said,

"I have no idea what it is, but I know you need it. I hope you'll have some idea of what to do with it."

Hermione nodded numbly, staring down at the garish 'S' upon the locket. "I have to destroy it," she whispered, without telling him why. "I just have to figure out how."


Severus watched as Hermione tugged on the nightgown he'd pulled out of her trunk - a white t-shirt that reached her knees. She hauled herself off of the bed and raked her fingers through her hair, now a tangled bird's nest of mostly-dried frizz.

He glanced at the locket he'd given her, which she now clutched in her fist. The dull silver chain hung from between her fingers. What was the item, exactly? Ronald Weasley had pushed forth thoughts of the locket into Severus' head, and then Hermione had seemed completely unsurprised to receive it from Severus. There was something wrong with this locket. That much was evident. There was something dangerous about it.

Severus watched as Hermione slid off of the bed and paced about the room, staring down into her palm at the locket. She'd said it needed to be destroyed. Why? Severus considered that there was probably quite a good reason he was not privy to more knowledge about the locket, but there was a part of him that was curious. Perhaps Dumbledore had not seen fit for Severus to know the truth about the object, but there was something Hermione knew, something Potter and even Ronald Weasley knew, about it - something dangerous.

Hermione was muttering to herself softly as she paced, occasionally dragging her fingers through her knotted hair. Severus frowned and considered that within an hour or so she'd be feeling the effects of the contraceptive potion he'd given her, and that she was holding a hazardous object of some kind. He needed to know more, if for no other reason than to help her.

He was tempted to try to get her to look at him, to use Legilimency on her. It would have been easy - very easy, Severus reckoned - to search her mind and quickly determine what exactly the locket was. But he did not do that, for he knew that to do so would destroy all semblance of trust Hermione had for him.

Instead, he just watched in stilted silence as she paced back and forth and back again. Finally, he murmured,

"You'll soon enough be feeling the effects of the Elixir Infecundum, Hermione. I realize that whatever you're doing right now - whatever you're thinking about - I realize it's important, but…"

Hermione nodded distractedly and proceeded over to her trunk. She opened the lid and rummaged about until she found her Expanded purple purse. Severus watched her open the drawstring and shove the locket inside, and then she placed the purse in the corner of the trunk and shut it again. She turned back to face him, still looking quite distracted as she demanded,

"How did you get the locket, Severus?"

"I took it from Dolores Umbridge," he answered truthfully, raising his eyebrows as if he were bored. "I Confounded her into giving it to me."

Hermione nodded and chewed upon her thumb nail, her eyes scanning back and forth and back again. At last she asked him, "What do you know about Wyvern blades?"

Severus frowned deeply. Wyvern daggers were known to be extremely powerful for a variety of purposes, especially in Potions uses. They were able to slice through iron, but could perform the most delicate mincing of herbs, as well. Wyverns were creatures related to dragons, with a few different qualities, and there were far fewer wyverns in the world than dragons. Severus cleared his throat delicately and answered Hermione,

"I owned a Wyvern dagger once. It was given to me by…" he trailed off, hesitant to admit to Hermione that Voldemort had gifted him the wyvern blade when he'd joined the Death Eaters. He pursed his lips and said hastily, "It was a gift, years ago. It was stolen from me during my first year teaching - I was careless and it vanished from my Potions storeroom. I was never able to prove it, but I believed then, and still do, that one of my sixth-year Ravenclaws took it."

He watched with curiosity as an odd look came over Hermione's face. She walked back to her trunk and opened it again, rummaging once more until she took something from her canvas school bag.

Immediately, Severus felt a pang of emotion, relief mixed with anxiety. In the firelight, he could see the pearlescent, jagged blade and the shiny black handle. He instantly recognized it as the dagger that had once belonged to him, the one made of an ancient wyvern scale and fire-blasted wyvern glass.

Hermione held the dagger up so he could see it, and she asked gently, "Was this yours?"

"Where did you get that?" Severus asked, failing to answer her question. He knew his voice sounded like a sharp clip, but he could not help himself. He saw Hermione hesitate from giving him the truth, and again he irritatedly considered plunging into her mind. But instead he repeated, "Who gave that to you?"

"Luna," Hermione replied. "Luna Lovegood. She gave it to me for my birthday; I have no idea where she got it. I used it in Potions lessons a few days ago, and it was remarkably useful for cutting up stubborn Flitterbloom tentacles…" She trailed off, and looked thoughtful for a moment before raising her eyes to Severus and saying determinedly, "Professor Slughorn told me that it was a very powerful tool. That it could destroy objects very few other things could destroy. Is that true?"

Severus cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. He nodded briskly. "I have used that very dagger to slice through the most stubborn metals, and to crush or break into or otherwise mutilate all sorts of particularly tenacious Potions ingredients. I never encountered anything that the Wyvern dagger was unable to penetrate."

He knew precisely why she'd asked, and was thus unsurprised when she headed back to her trunk and took out her purple bag, reaching inside of it and taking the locket out once more. She stood up in her knee-length t-shirt, hair tumbling messily about her face, and held up both hands. In her left was the locket, and in her right was the Wyvern dagger.

Suddenly, the locket quivered and vibrated at the end of its dull silver chain, and Hermione let out a shriek as though she'd been burned. She quickly dropped the locket and clutched at her hand, and Severus felt a curiousear of pain - her pain - shoot through his veins. The locket fell to the ground with a strange thud, and when it did, the face of the locket flew open and vibrated again against the rug.

They both stared down at it, and Severus moved to grab at Hermione's elbow and try to yank her away from it. It was clearly cursed; that much was obvious. That became more clear than ever when Severus peered more closely into the now-open locket and saw a set of eyes blinking up at him.

"Hermione," Severus mumbled suddenly, his voice losing all semblance of smoothness, "Give me the dagger."

But before she could obey him, the locket began trembling fiercely and a strange blue-grey cloud wormed its way up from the face. Severus watched in horror as a distorted image began to take shape - him. It was him, but a smoky, ghostly image of him. Then a voice began speaking, and at once Severus recognized it as Voldemort's.

"Hermione Granger, I have seen your heartbreak. I have seen the path of your life, short and tragic and pathetic. Look at the man beside you - you think he loves you, but even you must admit Severus Snape has been a double agent for the length of your life. If he was lying to one side, then why not to the other? Whose side is he truly on? How could you possibly know him to be your ally?"

Severus' mouth fell open in abject alarm as the smoky image of himself turned and faced Hermione and began speaking with Voldemort's voice.

"'I had a better life before you, Hermione. Better women, more skilled than you at pleasing me. You are nothing but a silly little girl, a tool for me to achieve my means for the Dark Lord. Recognize your place in my plan - I never loved you. Nobody ever could.'"

Beside Severus, Hermione was shaking fiercely and her eyes were brimming with tears as she watched the smoky figure taunt her. The Wyvern dagger quivered in her hand for a moment. Severus was about to shout at her to destroy the locket, but he didn't have to do so. A very infuriated expression abruptly crossed Hermione's face, a look of determination and rage. She growled fiercely and gripped the handle of the dagger tightly and lunged forward, falling to her knees.

Then she drove the white pearlescent blade of the Wyvern dagger against the open face of the locket, and bright orange sparks flew up into the air. At once, the smoky mirage of Severus faded and the sound of Voldemort's voice vanished into thin air. There was a beat of solid silence, and then the room erupted with long, drawn-out, vicious scream. Severus gasped as a bright flash of light burst from the locket briefly, and then the scream ended, and Hermione yanked the Wyvern blade from the shattered locket, and the room fell silent once more.

She fell back onto her bottom, panting and looking exhausted, and then very suddenly tears started streaming down her cheeks. She tossed the Wyvern dagger aside and swiped angrily at her eyes, and Severus stepped quickly over to her to grab the locket from the ground and reach his hand out to help her from the floor.

A few minutes later, he had her settled into a chair with a glass of firewhisky and a warm blanket, knowing that she had only a short while before the pain and bleeding started from her contraceptive potion. He paced anxiously before the fire, examining the destroyed locket in his own hands. The Wyvern dagger sat atop his mantle.

Finally, Severus demanded tersely, "Tell me what it was, Hermione."

She looked very hesitant for a long moment, and she gnawed so hard upon her lip that he worried it would bleed. Then at last she shook her head and said, "Well, honestly, Severus, I think perhaps I'm going to have to Obliviate you of tonight so that He can't see that you witnessed any of this. And I don't think I should tell you what it is. Or, perhaps I should, and then you can tell me if you think I should Obliviate the knowledge of that, as well."

Now thoroughly confused, Severus stopped pacing and frowned. "What?"

Hermione glared up at him. "The locket was a Horcrux," she said angrily. "Voldemort split his soul into many pieces, many years ago. Before he died, Dumbledore destroyed one. There were others, and that's where Ron and Harry went - to find them and destroy them. Until all the Horcruxes are destroyed, Voldemort can not be vanquished."

Severus felt as though a sack full of bricks had swung into his sternum. Suddenly, a good many things made significantly more sense.

Then he realized that she was right - if the Dark Lord knew Severus possessed knowledge about this, it would mean death for both him and Hermione. But Obliviation was dangerous at best and madness at worst. No, he would simply have to be more vigilant with his skills of Occlumency, at keeping the Dark Lord out of his head so that Severus himself might prove himself useful in eradicating the Horcruxes.

It might be true, Severus admitted, that he'd only agreed to spy for the Order of the Phoenix all those years ago in order to protect Lily Evans. But in the intervening years, he had grown to recognize the madness of Voldemort. Perhaps most importantly, the only two women he'd ever loved in his life were both Muggle-borns, and the primary purpose of the Death Eaters was to eradicate Muggle-borns. How could he possibly truly align himself with them now? He'd already lost Lily to Voldemort. He would not lose Hermione to him, too.

Before he could explain any of this to Hermione, he felt a dull burning in his left arm. He shut his eyes and sighed angrily. He had literally just come from Malfoy Manor, and now he was being summoned back. Perhaps, he figured, it was because Voldemort had just sensed the destruction of one of his Horcruxes.

He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione, who was staring down at her own left arm as if she had a Dark Mark of her own. She frowned at Severus and nodded bleakly. Severus squared his jaw and ground his teeth, then shook his head firmly.

"I can not leave you here to suffer the effects of the Elixir Infecundum alone," he argued uselessly, though they both knew he had precisely no choice in the matter. Hermione shrugged and smiled sadly.

"I shall be perfectly fine," she assured him. "I'll take warm showers and a pain potion if need be -"

"No!" Severus shook his head more vigorously. "If you take any other potions, you shall completely counteract the efficacy of the elixir."

Hermione looked rather crushed, but she nodded in understanding. "Lots of warm showers, then," she said again bravely, and Severus nodded. His left arm started burning more fiercely, and he saw Hermione wince a bit. He thought once again how odd and uncomfortable it was that she was able to feel his pain, and that he would undoubtedly be able to feel hers.

He dashed around the room, picking up pieces of clothing he'd discarded earlier when he'd come in and stripped to make love to Hermione. It was an odd sense of déjà vu, to go back to Malfoy Manor twice in the same night. It was not a pleasant sensation to kiss Hermione goodbye and promise her he'd see her later that night and have no guarantee of that fact whatsoever.

And it was with an absolute sense of dread that Severus Disapparated on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, with a resounding crack, knowing he may never see the place again.

When he appeared on the grounds of Malfoy Manor and stepped through the unlocked front doors, the house was eerily quiet. Severus thought perhaps he'd been summoned back so soon because Voldemort had realized a bit of his soul had been killed off, and perhaps he'd known Severus had been there to help kill it. Therefore, Severus figured it would not be at all unexpected if he himself were killed tonight. He had a pit of dread in his gut that he was going to die, but it belonged to Hermione, not to him.

He stepped up the stone stairs, yet again, just like he'd done a few hours earlier, and walked into the dining room, just like he'd done earlier that evening. Except, this time, a slightly different crowd was gathered. There was no Dolores Umbridge, and Severus felt an odd sense of relief at that. It was the group of "warriors" - the ones who were known for their battle prowess. And at the head of the table was Voldemort, as always, looking quite anxious indeed.

"Welcome back," he said tersely to the group, once Severus took his seat beside Yaxley. He spoke very quickly, and Severus realized there was an odd sense of urgency to what was happening. He also noticed that Voldemort did not spare Severus an individual glance, and that what was going on tonight was not about Severus but about someone else.

Good, Severus could not help but think.

"Yaxley," Voldemort said briskly, "Would you care to explain what is going on tonight?"

Severus turned his face to the pale-haired Yaxley, who swallowed heavily and cleared his throat.

"Of course, My Lord," he said carefully. "Earlier tonight, Ministry officials overheard Mundungus Fletcher drunkenly bragging in Knockturn Alley about a 'raid' that was going to happen tonight. Obviously, due to Severus' work, we know Dung Fletcher to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Mundungus Fletcher was captured and interrogated for information. From what we can tell, Order members will be here in approximately two hours. They intend to ambush the place, though Fletcher had little information on the specific logistics. They're coming to fetch the Weasley boy, obviously. To 'rescue' him."

Around the table, there were titters and low laughs, until Voldemort glared around and silenced everyone. Severus piped up,

"Is Potter coming?"

"No idea," Yaxley admitted. "Fletcher didn't seem to know. My guess would be that they wouldn't risk that. I've no idea why they're risking anything for that stupid boy, to be honest."

"This is Molly Weasley you're talking about," Severus said with a sneer. "She may have seven children, but if you were to ask her, none of them are spares."

Then, suddenly, Severus had an idea. It was a sick idea, a terrible idea, and he got a pit in his stomach that it had even occurred to him. He was an awful person for thinking of it. But it would win the battle tonight for the side of the light, and it would keep him in good graces with Voldemort at the same time. It was a ludicrous idea, an insane idea. And it would save Ronald Weasley's life. He cleared his throat softly and said,

"My Lord?" He raised his eyes to Voldemort, who stared at him expectantly. Severus continued cautiously. "If you permit me to briefly return to Hogwarts, I can fetch the youngest Weasley child. Ginevra, the girl. I will bring her back here and use her as a bargaining chip. The Order members will surrender the minute they see the girl."

"And what of the Weasley boy?" Bellatrix Lestrange demanded, pressing her palms against the dining room table and narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Are we to simply hand him over and look weak? Give the Weasley woman both her children? For what?"

"No. Of course not," Severus shook his head imperiously as though Bellatrix were an utter fool. "We promise to keep the Weasley boy alive as a prisoner if Molly Weasley brings us Harry Potter."

"But of course the other Order members would never allow such a thing," Yaxley said snidely.

Severus thought of how Albus Dumbledore had informed him that Harry Potter would have to die in order for Voldemort to be destroyed, and that Voldemort would have to kill him. Severus thought perhaps it was time, once and for all, for Potter to discover that information, and for the rest of the Order to learn it, too. Certainly, he thought, if Molly Weasley knew that, and Ronald was being held captive, she'd make Potter appear lickety-split.

"I think you'd be surprised what a desperate mother will make happen without anyone else's permission," Severus said softly. He turned his eyes back to Voldemort. "My Lord, if I am to fetch Ginevra Weasley, I must go quickly."

"Go!" Voldemort said brusquely, waving his arm.

Severus' breath shook as he numbly walked out of the manor, and as he stepped through the garden, he reached inside his collar and clutched his iron pendant in his hand. He squeezed it tightly and whispered, "Oraverit."


Hermione was terribly startled when Severus appeared in the entry of the small shower space. She jolted where she sat on the floor of the shower and stared up at him, seeing how his eyes looked strained and tired.

"What's wrong?" she asked, quickly pulling herself up to stand. The cramps and bleeding weren't quite as bad as she thought they would be, or perhaps she'd over-prepared herself mentally. In any case, the warm water was soothing and distracting enough that she was handling the elixir fairly well. She shut off the water and reached for a towel to wrap around her torso.

"I realize what I am asking you to do," Severus said without so much as a greeting, and Hermione felt abruptly anxious when she heard the tremble in his normally smooth voice, "but I need you to go up to Gryffindor Tower and cast a Confundus Charm upon Ginny Weasley. I need you to convince her that it is a fantastic idea to come out to the Apparition Point and accompany me to Malfoy Manor, where she is going to serve as bait. She is going to save her brother's life… and a fair number of others', as well."