Author's Note: Hello everyone! My sincere apologies for the delay, I've been incredibly busy with college admissions and things like that. I got into a university and got a room adjacent to my friend, so that's something I'm happy about. Still, fingers crossed that some of the better universities (who yet haven't announced their admission results) take me in.

A slight warning, this chapter contains a slightly intimate scene. It's not too graphic as such, but still, in case any of you are averse to reading such things, you may want to keep that in mind.

Leave your thoughts. xxx

Chapter Ten:

The marriage was a solemn affair. It wasn't at all elaborate, probably thanks to both the bride and groom being rather keen on keeping it low-key. Hermione's apprehensions about having to kiss Severus were all for naught; the official kept it quite hassle-free, much to the relief of everyone present. Most of the Weasleys and Harry each had a word or two with their ex-Professor, though it was obvious that his retirement had not diminished their fear of him in the slightest. It had probably taken every ounce of their Gryffindor spirits to muster up the courage, look the man in the eye and ask him to look after the woman who he would now call his wife.

Hermione, although she maintained a blank look on her face, was revolting from within. Her legs screamed at her to run; run away from it all. Her hands twitched to tear her wedding gown (if her grey dress robes could be called that) into shreds. But she kept herself together and reminded herself repeatedly of the promise she'd made. To live on and never give up.

While she mentally wished that all her friends would stop smothering her and clear away, she sorely missed them when she stood alone on the doorstep of her new home. He hadn't reprimanded her for just standing there for a few minutes, so that seemed to be a good sign. Hesitantly, she stepped inside and looked around, her mouth agape with incredulity. It wasn't like she hadn't expected his house to be home to hundreds of books, so it was hard to pinpoint exactly what it was that had taken her by surprise.

The living room was quite tidy and ordinary to the tee. There was a fireplace, a sofa and a dining area, leading into the kitchen. A kitchen? So did he cook, then? She thought she saw a tiny loincloth lying in the corner (a house elf?), but she pointedly ignored it. It would not do to argue on the first day itself, now would it? His bedroom, on the other hand, seemed to speak out to her. There were parts that were still formal-looking, like the bookshelf by the draped window, possibly out of habit. Perhaps it had been another survival tactic of sorts, keeping the house impersonal; anything that would give him away kept out of sight. But the desk was an entirely different space of its own. There were two picture frames, one of which had been kept face down on the desk. The other had a younger looking Severus standing between the newly-wed Malfoys, Narcissa and Lucius looking regal as ever, waving like royalty. She wondered if it would be rude to pick up the other frame and peek, but decided against it.

There was also a red and gold feathered quill that lay on the table which looked like it held more sentimental value judging by its unused state. Glancing around the room, Hermione got the impression that Severus had somewhat thawed after the war. She got fleeting glimpses of who he was, here and there. She wondered if he had made it appear less formal and more homely simply because he knew he would be sharing his house with her, but that seemed unlikely. Then again, Professor McGonagall could have got him to do it. She'd probably never know.

"Your room is right across."

Hermione jumped, startled by his sudden presence. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Her room did not disappoint. It had a four-poster bed with purple drapes (he'd wisely kept away from house colours, she noticed), a desk just like the one in his room, a bookcase, with a few empty shelves and a wardrobe.

He spoke from behind her, "It doesn't have an attached bathroom, I hope that is alright."

"Yes, yes, that's perfectly fine. This is, uh… this is great. Thank you."

"I'll be in my room, in case you need anything. Dinner will be at 7."

And with that, she found herself alone in her new room. Ginny had sent her trunk and it lay at the foot of the bed, unopened. She sat next to it and ran her hand over the white bed cover. She shivered as a gust of wind blew into her room. A sudden feeling of fear enveloped her as she recalled her earlier conversation with Ginny.

"So, I take it that you haven't ever… you know…?"

"No, I don't. What are you getting at?"

"Have you ever... done it? You know, like-"

"Ginny! For Merlin's sake, what is wrong with you?" She had spluttered and turned a deep shade of red.

"I take that as a no, then."

"Yes. I mean, no! Wait, why are we doing this?"

"It's either me or mum, you know. And I'd highly recommend me. Mum was a nightmare. Before I got married, she had this whole talk about what to do when it is "time" and that Harry-"

"Okay, okay, stop. I get it."

"So? Have you?"

"No. Does it… hurt? What am I supposed to do? Is it like-"

"There, there. Calm down. It'll be alright. It does sort of hurt, I mean... Okay. I'm going to be very technical here, but bear with me. If your hymen is intact, it will most likely hurt. If it isn't, then well, good for you. It won't so much. But then again, it depends on his girth and your capacity and-"

"Ginny!"

"What? I'm just telling you like it is. You can hope that he's slow or gentle. And apply this later, it helps. Worked wonders with me. According to the bloody law you're supposed to do it within a day of getting married and atleast twice a week after that, so there's no postponing the first time."

"Aren't we supposed to be in a certain sort of mindset before the act? I mean…"

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

"But how…?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I really can't help you out on that. I wish I could, but you're going to have to figure it out with him. I'm truly sorry."

She dug into her bag and retrieved a vial of colourless liquid that Ginny had given her as a "wedding present". She kept back in her bag, in a more easily accessible pouch. That was half of the problem solved. The easier half, she supposed. How were they going to do it? Without having an ounce of affection for the other? What was the Ministry thinking? Stupid, brainless pricks. She was just going to have to think of him as Ron. If she could ever manage that.

Dinner was mainly some clanking of china and the sounds of chewing and drinking. She followed him into his bedroom after they had finished eating and silently sat on the bed.

"Drink this." He handed her a goblet filled with a blue potion. At her questioning gaze, he said, "It'll be easier and faster this way."

She soon understood what he meant. Barely had a few moments passed after she had drained the goblet (she saw that he had emptied one too), when she felt a tingling sensation between her legs. He appeared to be undoing his trousers, so she began to undo her robes. He stopped her trembling fingers and instead motioned for her to pull them up to her thighs. She lay back on the bed, the sheets wrinkling in her fist and stared at the ceiling. She felt the mattress sink as he placed his knees on either side of her.

Their bodies did not touch anywhere else. He eased into her and paused when she sucked in her breath. She shut her eyes and forced herself to count backwards from hundred. The thinking-of-Ron plan had backfired, she could only see his blank, lifeless eyes and at that particular moment, it would not have been advisable to give into sorrow.

Afterwards, when he had left his room presumably to give her some privacy after their supposedly intimate act, she straightened her clothes and returned to her room, only to find a vial identical to the one Ginny had given her, with a note that said, "Apply this. It will help relieve the pain."