I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Kisses, hugs, and eternal thanks to Selek, the best beta ever! And, thank you so much for my reviewers. You guys are great.
Please review.
Chapter 12
Late August 1996
The screaming began precisely at 2:00AM. Hermione sat bolt upright, her heart racing in her throat. Her wand was in her hand in mere seconds. "Lumos!"
Beside her, Severus was curled tightly in a ball, shaking with fear. Cold, sweat-soaked sheets tangled around his hands that clutched frantically at his head. "Pleeeeease! No!" he screamed. "I dint mean it. Uhm sorry, sorry, sorry."
He was pleading desperately, his throat raw, his voice hoarse, and Hermione feared he was deep in a nightmarish remembrance of some horrible torture by the Dark Lord. Then, her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she began to put together his begging cries.
He was sobbing now. "Da, don', please! Please! Da! Da! I won't."
Hermione sat in shock. His tears and cries and fears - those scars on his back - were from his own father. How could any parent - She couldn't even finish the thought in her own mind. Gently but with alacrity, she disentangled his hands, crooning soft, comforting words. She pulled him to her breast and rocked him like a baby, murmuring wordless sounds of reassurance, pausing only now and then to wipe away his tears.
"Severus, love, hush now, baby," she soothed him as she brushed his hair back from his face. She tenderly kissed his forehead. "Wake up, Severus. Everything is all right. I'm right here, and I won't let anyone hurt you."
His terror filled eyes popped open, and he tensed with dread as if expecting another blow. He shuddered with a sigh of relief when he recognized Hermione bending over him instead of the nightmarish paternal figure. Fear quickly gave way to embarrassment, and he moved roughly away from her.
"Severus?"
"I'm fine," he snapped. "Just leave me alone!"
Wisely, she said nothing. She knew that he needed a bit of time to regain his dignity and tack together the tattered edges of his pride. And, he was a proud man. "Accio water." She quietly summoned a glass of water, and without another word, she handed it to him.
He refused to meet her eyes, but he accepted the glass with trembling hands and drank deeply. "Thank you," he muttered then sent the empty glass back. He heaved another deep sigh and drew his knees up to his chest.
His hair fell forward, obscuring his features, and he stared at her from under the long locks. When he spoke again, his words were stiff. "Hermione, we are required to produce children." He shifted nervously. "The child that we will create," he said slowly, "it will be unwanted, but -" He stopped and swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was raspy with emotion. "I believe that all children should be wanted. That all children deserve to be loved by their parents."
When he couldn't continue, Hermione reached for his hands in the darkened room. "Severus?" She was heart-broken to see this sarcastic, bully of a man with silent tears in his eyes.
Inhaling deeply, he viciously shoved back his emotions. "My parents," he informed her angrily, "married only because my mother was pregnant with me. Neither of them wanted me, and they frequently and loudly made sure I knew just how much." He sat back abruptly, snatching his hands from hers and crossing his arms. "I will not have a son or daughter of mine treated in the same way."
She stared blankly at him and wet her lips. She knew she had to choose carefully her next words. "I agree with you completely," she told him with a timid smile. "Our child will be loved, Severus," she assured him. "He will be brilliant and brave and cunning and loyal, and he will be loved beyond measure." She dared to put her hand on his.
His eyes narrowed as he judged her words and their sincerity. For the briefest of moments, they darted down to where her tiny, white hand lay against his larger, rougher one. Severus turned his hand over to clasp hers and then looked her squarely in the eye. "Our child will be willful and stubborn, mischievous and sneaky."
Her smile grew. "Of course, he will," she agreed passively. "And it will take our combined efforts to manage him."
He swallowed hard at the announcement. "She will be a singularly ugly child with horrible hair, bad teeth and poor eyesight. She'll no doubt have a hooked nose and an acid personality."
Hermione laughed outright at that. "Then, we'll get her a good stylist, braces, and contact lenses. We'll even get her counseling and cosmetic surgery if we need to." She sobered then and returned his hard stare. "But, make no mistake, our child will be loved."
September 1, 1996
Harry frowned as he wearily plopped down at the Gryffindor table. His nose still hurt. "Nothing," he answered the question in Ginny's worried eyes. "Where's Hermione?" He glanced over at the empty seat next to Ron.
"I don't know," Ginny answered. She frowned, still unhappy with his refusal to explain why his shirt was bloody. "I've been looking for her since we got here."
"She's jush up dehr," Ron mumbled through a mouthful of turkey. He pointed vaguely with his fork towards the staff table. "Sittin by 'fessor 'bage."
Ginny and Harry whipped around to see their friend, dressed in the robes of a professor, sitting at the far end of the staff table next to Professor Burbage. "Why didn't you tell me you'd found her?" Ginny hissed at her brother with frustration.
Ron looked up, bewilderment on his face, and swallowed. "You didn't ask."
"Oh, you great idiot!" Ginny pelted him with a roll.
"Ginny!" Lavender exclaimed. "That isn't helping."
"Shh," Harry chided them both. "Dumbledore is speaking."
"Welcome to Hogwarts," cried Dumbledore to the seated assembly. "There are a few changes as you can see." He held out his blackened right hand to indicate the staff table, and then, as he realized the students were staring at it, he tucked it behind him. "Um, yes, we have persuaded Professor Slughorn to return from retirement to teach Potions this year, as Professor Snape has taken over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Also," he continued over the murmur of student voices at this news, "as the Ministry has declared that all Pureblood wizards will be required to take Muggle Studies, we have an additional Professor of Muggle Studies. Our own Hermione Granger has not only taken and passed her NEWTS this summer but also her teaching credentials." He smiled at the youngest member of his staff. "Also, she will be apprenticing with Professor McGonagall."
He paused to look quickly at McGonagall. She nodded at him sharply once, her lips pinched together tightly, her eyes like cut glass. He glanced down at the podium briefly for a moment and sighed before gathering his thoughts with a fake smile. "You know her as Miss Hermione Granger, and although she was married this summer, she will use her maiden name as her professional one."
Shock and anger crowded the room, but Dumbledore merely sat back down and returned to his pudding. From the Pureblood wizards came a collective groan of frustration over additional course work; the Slytherins, in particular, felt such a class to be beneath them. The witches, especially those who had been following the recent legislation, were horrified, heart-broken, and sickened that Hermione, one of their brightest, had fallen into forced matrimony.
Ron sat stunned. With shaking hands, he raised his pumpkin juice and drained the glass. "Did Dumbledore just say Hermione is married?" His voice was hoarse.
Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "Do you ever listen to anything besides your growling belly?" she snapped at him. "Honestly, Harry, tell him." When Harry merely stared at her in dumb ignorance, she stood from the table, folded her arms indignantly, and marched away.
"Oh, Won-Won," Lavender said with sincere anguish, "don't you boys pay attention? Last year, the ministry set up the Marriage Act."
"Well, yeah," Ron said off-handedly, "but what's that got to do with Hermione?"
Parvati Patil, Lavender's counterpart, sighed. "According to the law all Muggleborn witches must marry a Pureblood wizard and have a couple of children."
"So, who did Hermione marry?" Harry asked anxiously. It wasn't anyone he knew, or he was sure they would have heard by now.
"The girl has no say in the matter. A Pureblood wizard petitions for her, and they get married. So, there's no telling who poor Hermione is stuck with," Lavender informed them with a sniff.
"And the wizard must be at least thirty years old," Parvati said sympathetically. "She's probably married to some old geezer, who only wants a smart wife who can give him lots of smart heirs."
Ron shot Parvati an horrified look. "No," he sputtered, "no, Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen." He looked frantically to Harry.
Harry frowned. "I don't think he could openly defy the law, Ron," he stated firmly.
Ron was still blustering when Hermione joined them after the feast. Barely stopping as she walked by, Hermione quickly whispered in Harry's ear. "We need to talk," she told them earnestly. "There's an unused classroom around the corner. Could you both join me there?"
Harry deliberately folded his napkin and set in down. He gave a quick nod to Ron, and the boys, as one, stood and followed her out of the main hall.
Once they were inside, Hermione seated herself, and then she looked up at them. "Please sit down," she whispered. Hermione set a locking and silencing spell in place as the boys drew up chairs near her.
She sighed as she saw their curious faces. "Yes, I'm married, but that's not the important thing I have to tell you."
"Who, Hermione?" demanded Ron, his face red and his voice quavering. "Who is he?"
The old Hermione, if she had noticed Ron's adolescent attraction for her, would have been girlishly pleased with his masculine protective stance. The new Hermione, having matured far faster than normal, felt only sorrow. At one time, she would not only have welcomed his feelings but also returned them. Now, it was terribly, terribly inconvenient and potentially volatile. Both young men deeply disliked her husband.
"That's not the important thing," she repeated. "There are changes coming, terrible things." She sighed loudly. "I promise you I am in no danger. The professors and your parents -" she eyed Ron with significance, "- were at the wedding, and it was the best solution. I can live with it, so you two can as well."
The boys, accustomed to obeying her, gave her grudging nods. "All right, Hermione. What's going on?" Harry was the first to speak.
"I'm not sure, but sometime this year, the school will fall to V-Voldemort." Ron cringed at the use of the name, but Harry only clenched his teeth. "I know that Dumbledore has several tasks for you, Harry, and I know that eventually, you're going to need help."
"What tasks?" Ron questioned. "You know I'll help you with anything. Well, except maybe spiders." He grinned to lighten the mood. "You know I hate spiders."
Harry snorted a small laugh. "I can't tell you what the tasks are yet, but once I do and am able, I'll let you both in."
"No, Harry," Hermione insisted. "You tell Ron but not me. I won't be able to leave Hogwarts, and I am bound by my marriage vows not to keep anything from my husband, should he ask. You should get Ginny or Luna to help you."
"Ginny?" Ron snorted in amusement. "Not my little sister. She'd drive me round the twist. Luna's, well, Luna, but she's -"
"Smart," Harry concluded. "Not as brilliant as you, Hermione," he told her, "but what about you?"
"Don't worry about me," she said with a smile. "And I'm already working on some plans to help us defeat -"
"Don't say it, again," Ron interrupted her. Then, he softened his tone. "Hermione," Ron asked gingerly, "I know you'll have to obey your husband and all, but why can't you just leave Hogwarts and come with us without asking his permission? You can't disobey him if you don't give him a chance to say no."
Harry grinned and elbowed Ron. "Like the time we took the Ford Anglia and flew it to Hogwarts?"
"Well, yeah, mostly," Ron conceded with a grin. "It's always easier to get forgiveness than it is to get permission."
"So, Hermione, why don't you come with us anyway?" Harry asked.
"Because," Hermione whispered, "the law states that I should have a baby by then."
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Hermione squared her shoulders and entered her classroom with a thrill of excitement and more than a twinge of fear. She had been given the task of instructing the Pureblood wizards in the jobs involved in running a Muggle household. Her students, most of whom were forced to take the class, consisted of sixth and seventh year Pureblood wizards, which gave her a grand total of eleven students.
"Oi, 'mione," Ron called, "why do we have to take this class?"
Theo Nott nodded vigorously. "That's what I'd like to know!"
Hermione explained patiently, "As to why you are required to take this class, the Ministry feels that since all Pureblood wizards must marry a Muggleborn witch when they reach thirty, it would be conducive for all prospective bridegrooms to be able to understand, in part, the background of their prospective brides. Now -"
"Cuh-doo-say?" Crabbe blurted out. "What's that?"
Nott, laughing hysterically, shouted, "That's so you can get -"
Ron bolted to his feet, his face flaming. "Shut your dirty mouth!" he bellowed. "You're not gonna talk like that to 'mione!"
Blaise Zabini rose from his seat and snatched Crabbe, who had risen to Ron's challenge, back down into his desk. "Sit down, you idiot," he growled. "Use smaller words, Granger, to explain why we have to take your Merlin-be-damned class."
"Sweet Merlin!" moaned Ernie McMilan, the lone Hufflepuff. "Why is it that everything must be a bloody battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin?"
"There's no need for rudeness," Neville spoke up. "Sit down, Ron." He pushed his housemate back to his seat.
"Enough!" Hermione yelled as she slammed both hands down on the desk. Instantly, her class settled down. "The name is Professor Granger, and I will be addressed as such." Her voice had become quiet and deadly. "You are in this class because the Ministry said so. Ten points from Gryffindor and fifteen from Slytherin!" She glared at them in conscious imitation of her husband. "And the first one of you who dares say one more word will have detention!"
After she showed the young men that she demanded their respect, things ran much more smoothly. Within the next few weeks, Vincent Crabbe, in his own plodding way and doing the least amount of work possible, managed, with a great deal of repetition and patience on Hermione's part, to understand the fundamentals of running a Muggle home. In fact, he was becoming first rate at dusting and vacuuming.
After coming to an uneasy truce, Ron and Theo Nott had quickly mastered the basics of house cleaning, so Hermione had moved them forward to laundry. Once they realized that it was their own clothing they were to launder, they stopped fooling around and began making a real effort at learning. She'd only had to give them one Troll grade, but what had really done the trick was their horror at realizing they had accidentally dyed their shorts pink.
Neville and Ernie were always polite and worked hard no matter what the task. Merlin bless them! He and Ernie had organized the pretend Muggle home. Neville had naturally gravitated towards creating a non-magical, Muggle herb garden. Ernie outshone them all for when he stepped into the kitchen and began creating Muggle culinary feasts, which many of the Hogwarts house elves came to watch in awe.
And Blaise Zambini was doing a splendid job creating and balancing a budget. Hermione was going to put him in charge of the "shopping" project she had planned for the next week. She had thought that Draco might be interested in that job since he was now in charge of the Malfoy fortune and estates, and surely, she thought, financial matters would appeal to him.
But Draco was unusually quiet this year. Oh, he still gave her filthy looks on occasion, and he was surly to nearly everyone - even the other Slytherins. But he had changed, and Hermione could see it if no one else could. He was thinner and paler, his hands seemed to twitch of their own accord, and he seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
In fact, he reminded her a great deal of Severus, and she wished she could help him.
