Author's Note: I'm sorry this update has taken so long. Graduate school unfortunately interferes with my writing. Thank you for the reviews! I always appreciate your feedback. I promise updates will be posted as quickly as I can write them. I anticipate this being quite a long story... this is my first fic, so I'm just seeing where it takes itself. I genuinely appreciate you coming along for the ride.

Chapter Thirteen – An Unwelcome Guest

It took Hermione longer than she was proud of to summon the courage to go find Severus. She had promised not to pry, but she was overwhelmed by the knowledge of his role in Ron's death. As she stood outside his study, ready to knock, the door flew open.

"Enter." Severus' voice called from within the study, reminding her eerily of his mannerisms in the Potions classroom at Hogwarts.

Her head was high as she walked into his study. Severus was seated behind his desk, upon which was piled many sheets of official-looking parchment. He raised his eyebrows at her as she approached. "I trust your fitting with Narcissa was delightful? It certainly took long enough," he drawled sardonically.

A curt nod was all she offered in reply. "Should I liquidate some of our assets?" he said with a smirk. "I am no stranger to Narcissa's fondness for extravagant finery and the cost associated with such attire."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I bought a dress," she choked out. "It was terribly expensive."

Severus nodded. "I'm well aware. But I think that is not what troubles you now. Sit," he ordered, gesturing to a chair across from the expansive desk.

She sat stiffly, wringing her hands in her lap. "I wish…" She could not look at him.

"Yes?"

"I wish you had told me, Severus," she said, looking up and staring him boldly in the face. "About Ron." Her voice broke on his name.

Recognition dawned on Severus' face. "Ah… Miss Brown never could keep her mouth shut in my classroom. I'm not surprised she confronted you. Hermione, you must understand -"

She raised a hand and silenced him. "No, Severus. You should have told me." A sob escaped her. "I cared for him, Severus. I did," she continued, when she saw the pained expression on his face. "He was my friend and I loved him; you should have told me you killed him."

For the first time in the seven years she had known him, Severus looked remorseful. "Did you love him? As more than a friend?" His voice was small.

"Yes," she answered tearfully. "I care for you, Severus. I won't deny that." She took a deep breath before she continued. "But I loved him."

Severus nodded. "I see."

Despite her anger, Hermione felt a twinge of guilt when she saw the grim look on his face. She stood abruptly and walked behind his desk to stand in front of him. She took his hands in hers as she spoke. "I won't ask you why. I promised you I would trust you. But please, Severus, please tell me what you can. It was horrid, today, to hear it from Lavender. I can handle whatever truths you have to tell me."

He looked away from her. "How can you stand to be near me? After all I've done?" he asked emotionlessly.

Gently, she reached up and touched his cheek. His eyes closed at the touch. "I believe you are good, Severus." He shook his head at her words. "You are good, Severus. I know how you protected us for so many years. From Quirrell, and Lupin, and others."

"I am not a noble Gryffindor," he said contemptuously. "My motivations were not as selfless as you would like to think."

"Regardless, I am placing my trust in you. Please don't abuse that trust."

Severus looked up at her; the pain in his obsidian eyes shook her. "You know nothing of the world beyond your books and learning, Hermione. You have much to learn."

Hermione was unsure what motivated her; perhaps it was the emotional upheaval of the day, or the pain of knowing she was placing her trust and her life in Ron's murderer, or the frustration that she felt at knowing so little. Whatever her motivations were, she knew only that in that moment, she wanted to feel something different from the pain that threatened to overwhelm her; her voice was husky as she whispered, "Teach me."

Quicker than she had ever moved, she was in his lap and kissing him fiercely. "Teach me," she whispered against his ear once more. Her stomach leapt when her words elicited a soft moan from his lips. Severus kissed her throat hungrily and she fumbled to open his shirt. He slipped her jacket off quickly and tore open her blouse before nestling himself in the swell of her breasts. He kissed each in turn as she grinded against him. Just as he began to pull the cup of her bra aside, a knock sounded at the door.

Severus swore angrily as he gently pushed her off his lap and righted both their clothes with a wave of his wand. "Enter," he barked.

Norris crept in, shamefaced. "My most sincere apologies for the intrusion, Master," said Norris with a furtive glance at Hermione. "Madam Lestrange has called unexpectedly and demands an audience with Master and Madam Snape."

Severus swore once more. "Escort Madam Lestrange to the Drawing Room. Madam Snape and I will receive her shortly. And Norris? Keep an eye on her," Severus cautioned.

Norris bowed deeply and hurried from the room.

"Why is she here, Severus?" Hermione's voice was frantic.

Severus' face was grim. "I am not sure. Undoubtedly, she is here to stir up trouble to report to the Dark Lord." He gripped her arms as he spoke. "You must be the perfect submissive wife. She will attempt to provoke you; do not allow her to. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course, Severus."

"Good. Bellatrix will undoubtedly attempt to penetrate your mind; keep your shields up."

Bellatrix Lestrange looked, somehow, worse than she had during the war. She had grown gaunter and painfully thin, her cheekbones protruding so sharply that she looked skeletal. Her cheeks were hollowed and her eyes were wilder than ever. Expensive black dress robes hung from her frail body. Overall, her appearance reminded Hermione of photos she had seen in her Muggle history books of concentration camp victims.

Despite her emaciated appearance, her arrogance remained intact. Bellatrix was sprawled unladylike across the sofa in the Drawing Room, her wild hair cascading over her shoulders. She smirked at Hermione nastily as she and Severus entered the room.

"Bellatrix," Severus said smoothly, "what a pleasant surprise."

Fury burned in Bellatrix's eyes. "Spare me the false sentiments, Snape," she spat. "I can see through your simpering manners."

Severus looked at her skeptically. "What cause do you have to doubt me, dear Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix ignored his comment but eyed him critically. She rose from her seat and swaggered towards Hermione. "I just had to come call on the new Madam Snape," she said mockingly. "Tell me, little girl, has he sprogged you up yet?"

Hermione took an involuntary step back. Be the perfect pureblood wife, she reminded herself. "How very kind of you to call, Madam Lestrange," Hermione said with such false sweetness her teeth hurt. She took Severus' arm and looked up at him adoringly. "We are just so happy."

Bellatrix looked as though the wind had been knocked out of her. The corners of Severus' mouth turned up almost imperceptibly as he watched her reaction. Hermione was encouraged, so she continued. "Would you join us for tea, Madam Lestrange? We would be so delighted to have you."

"What a splendid idea," Severus murmured in agreement. He turned to Hermione. "Tell Mitzi we will all take our tea in the Glass Garden." Hermione nodded and exited the room.

Once she had summoned Mitzi and arranged the tea, she made her way back to the Drawing Room. She stopped just outside the door, listening to the heated conversation within.

"You don't fool me, Snape," Bellatrix hissed. "I don't know what you are playing at with that little Mudblood, but-"

"If you intend to come into my home and insult my wife, Bellatrix, you will find your invitation quickly revoked," Severus said unemotionally. "Even the Dark Lord would not fault me for that."

"The Dark Lord trusts you far too much!" Her voice was rising now.

"Bellatrix," he said with an exasperated sigh, "how many times must we have this conversation? You do not trust me; you have brought your concerns to the Dark Lord numerous times. He has always found your accusations to be unfounded. Need I remind you that I only entered into this marriage with his permission? His blessing? If you doubt the judgment of our Master, Bellatrix, that is another matter entirely…"

"It is not our Master I doubt, Snape, it's you! Why would you marry that child? You may have fooled the Dark Lord into thinking it was for his benefit, but I know better!"

"Fooled the Dark Lord? Fooled him? The greatest Legilimens the world has ever seen?"

"Don't be coy with me, Snape! Everyone knows you are a skilled Occlumens!"

"As I had to be, in order to maintain my position as a spy for the Dark Lord. I had thought that killing Albus Dumbledore would be enough to satisfy even your bloodlust, Bella. But to answer your question; yes, I married that 'child' (who, I should remind you, is older than Draco and he has had the Mark for two years); I married the former Miss Granger to aid the Dark Lord. The mindless masses adore a harrowing love story. She will do more to further his great cause than you could ever do."

"Lies!" Bellatrix screaked.

Severus' voice was calm when he spoke again. "I will not deny that I have been in want of a wife and child; the Dark Lord knows well how important it is for me to have an heir. He rewards the faithful and the loyal. Not only is Hermione a great aid to the Dark Lord, she is young. So very young, in fact, that I can be assured of having an heir. It's a pity Rodolphus cannot say the same…"

Hermione heard the unmistakable sound of an object exploding. "How dare you!" Bellatrix roared.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Hermione walked calmly back into the room. "Tea is served, Madam Lestrange," she said innocently.

Bellatrix spun around and looked at her murderously. For a moment, her hand flicked toward her wand before she thought better of it. She stalked toward Hermione and with a frail hand, reached out and stroked one of her thick curls. "Such a pity," she said sardonically, "that your beautiful babies will have such filthy blood." Bellatrix looked over her shoulder at Severus and sneered. "You should keep a watchful eye on your young wife, Snape. I would hate for any tragedy to befall her." With one last contemptuous glare she swept out of the room.

"You did very well," Severus said as they sat down to tea in the Glass Garden. "Bellatrix did not expect you to be so congenial."

Hermione shook her head. "She's awful, Severus. Do you think she would… try anything dangerous?"

Severus took a sip of his tea before he spoke. "Not yet," he declared finally. "She fears the Dark Lord too much to risk his wrath. Be assured that she will be planting doubts in his ear any chance she gets. Her status has been lowered considerably in the Dark Lord's eyes, given her many failings in the war. She is getting more desperate. That could prove… dangerous."

"Was she unable to have children?" Hermione asked, recalling her violent reaction to Severus' insinuation.

"Yes, thank Merlin. That's one bloodline that needs to die out. Pureblood birth rates have been on the decline for several centuries. Too much inbreeding has caused infertility among the old pureblood families. And Bellatrix is not a young woman. There have been whispers… talk amongst those in our circle that Rodolphus has asked the Dark Lord's permission to set Bellatrix aside so he may take a new wife."

Hermione frowned in confusion. "But magical marriages are binding. How could he set her aside?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably. "There is a spell… a very Dark spell to unbind magical marriages. It is highly unethical," he said hesitantly. "The Dark Lord has performed the spell once before, that I have witnessed. It was successful, in a sense. The bonds were broken. The witch, however, was drained of all her magic. She became a Squib."

A twinge of pity surged through her. Do not feel sorry for Bellatrix Lestrange, she told herself angrily. "That's horrible, even for her," Hermione said, taking a chocolate biscuit from the tray on the table.

"Her marriage was no love match. It, like many pureblood marriages, was arranged by her family before she even left for Hogwarts."

"How archaic." Despite the deplorable things Bellatrix had done, Hermione could not imagine how awful it would be growing up knowing you had no choice in love.

"Yes, childhood betrothals have largely fallen out of favor with the purebloods, though most marriages are still arranged. Now that the war is over, Narcissa will be on the hunt for a suitable bride for Draco."

"Not Pansy Parkinson? They always seemed close at school."

Severus poured himself another cup of tea. "I'm afraid not," he said quietly. "Miss Parkinson has been promised to Marius Nott for some time now."

"Marius Nott? Surely you don't mean Theodore's father?" Severus nodded. "He was at the Department of Mysteries," she said. "He's… what? 50 or 60, at least?"

"68," Severus answered.

Hermione blanched. "Why would he want to marry Pansy? She could be his granddaughter."

"Marius always liked them young," Severus said icily. "He has… had his eye on Pansy for several years."

The resentment in Severus' voice reminded her that he had been Pansy's Head of House for seven years. "I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "That's terrible."

Severus stared at his biscuit. "Yes, it is most unfortunate for Miss Parkinson. There were rumors when his first wife died… Theodore had nightmares weekly during the first few years he was at Hogwarts. He confided in me once that he had seen his mother die. I never pressed… He was never eager to go home," Severus said quietly.

"I had no idea," Hermione whispered. Poor Theodore; poor Pansy. How strange: marrying Severus has shown me a side of these people I never considered before. I wonder how many are like Theodore and Pansy; trapped in a terrible situation they cannot escape from.

"Why are Pansy's parents marrying her to such a horrid man?"

"The Parkinson's are an old pureblood family, but, as is often the case, they are not as affluent as they once were. Marius Nott is extremely wealthy; his money will ensure their estate can survive."

Shock was written across Hermione's face. "They aren't worried about her safety?"

Severus shook his head grimly. "They are confident that if Miss Parkinson is obedient, she will be remain unharmed."

A thought occurred to Hermione; a thought so shocking that she dropped the chocolate biscuit she was eating. Her mouth was agape as she stared at him incredulously. "You could have saved her," she whispered. "You have the money and the power…you could have married her; the Dark Lord would have allowed it. But… you saved me." The thought overwhelmed her as her heart swelled with gratitude. "You saved me instead of her."

A look of guilt flashed briefly across his face. "The fate that awaited you was far darker than the one Miss Parkinson will face, I assure you."

Hermione nodded and returned to her tea. The implications of this thought were nearly incomprehensible. Why would he save me? Instead of one of his Slytherins? A girl who was his ward for years? Pansy is a pureblood; she would have been a far better lady of such a great estate… So why would he chose me? When there were others to save?

Hermione cast the thoughts aside; it was too much to consider for now.

After tea, Severus returned to pore over the parchments in his study. As Hermione made her way to the library to continue her reading, a nervous-looking Mitzi accosted her. "Madam!" Mitzi squealed, "Madam has not come to oversee the ledgers and approve the orders for this week!"

Hermione frowned in confusion. "What ledgers? I'm not entirely sure what you mean."

Mitzi rang her small hands together. "Master Severus left Mitzi in charge of the bookkeeping while he was away. But now that Madam is here, it wouldn't be proper for Mitzi to manage the household any longer. Madam must be in charge."

"Really, Mitzi, I don't think that will be necessary. You've done it this long; I'm sure you'll do a better job than I ever could," Hermione said with a kind smile.

Mitzi shook her head in disagreement. "Mitzi can't, Madam! It's not proper! Mitzi will have to iron her hands!"

"No!" said Hermione urgently. "No, Mitzi, that will not be necessary. That is never necessary. I'll come down, but I'm afraid you'll have to show me how you have run things so I can learn."

Mitzi beamed at her. "Mitzi will teach Madam," she said gleefully. Taking Hermione's hand, Mitzi tugged her through the halls, down the stairs, and into the small office she ran the household from.

For hours, the pair carefully went through each detail of the household. Hermione organized menus, approved orders for the local grocers, and checked every bill that was paid out by the estate. As they worked, Hermione's hair had escaped the house-elf magic that tamed it into submission and become a bushy, unruly mess. Hermione genuinely enjoyed logic puzzles, and it had been many months since she had any type of actual work to focus on. Although her younger self would have despised managing a household, Hermione found herself deeply immersed in the records and accounts. I must be losing my mind, she mused as she pored over a large stack of receipts written on parchment.

"Mitzi," Hermione said thoughtfully, "have you always worked here? At Prince Park?"

Mitzi nodded gleefully. "Of course, Madam! Mitzi's mother was a house-elf here, and her mother and her mother and her mother before that! We is very proud to serve the House of Prince, and now the House of Snape!"

Hermione smiled slyly at the elf. "You know, the estate could more than afford to pay you, and all the other elv–"

"Oh no, Madam! Mitzi would never work for pay," she said, disgusted by the word. "Only the lowest of elves work for pay, Madam! All the elves at Prince Park are bound to you and Master Snape!"

Hermione pressed on. "But wouldn't you prefer to be free, Mitzi? You could still work here, of course."

Mitzi's eyes grew wide with fear. "M-m-m-madam," Mitzi said, her large eyes growing wider as they filled with tears, "please! Not freed! Never freed!" The elf flung herself at Hermione's feet as she began to sob. "Not freed! Please, Madam!"

It was Hermione's turn to be frantic. "Oh Mitzi, please don't cry! It's all right! You won't be freed unless you want to be!" Slowly, after many reassurances from Hermione, Mitzi returned to her normal prim and proper state.

Finally, despite Hermione's protestations, Mitzi gently but forcefully shooed the young witch from the kitchens. "If Madam isn't dressed for dinner, Master Snape will be most displeased!" Mitzi cried shrilly. "The ledgers will be waiting for Madam tomorrow," she assured the frazzled witch. With a sigh, Hermione left Mitzi's cozy office and traced her way through the vast kitchens. As she neared the staircase, a small sound startled her. Hermione paused and listened. She heard it once more; it sounded as if a small bird were… hiccupping? Looking around, she saw a large potted plant situated near the foot of the staircase. The sound was coming from behind the plant. Hermione approached hesitantly.

"Winky?"

The small house-elf, dressed in a ragged blue dress, was clutching a large bottle of Butterbeer. Her small head rolled around on her miniscule shoulders; the elf was clearly drunk. "Winky! Are you all right? What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes wide with shock.

Winky looked at Hermione, but her large eyes were unfocused. "Dobby?" she asked, her small voice hopeful. "Dobby is back?"

"Winky!" Mitzi's voice was outraged as she raced down the corridor. "Bad Winky!" Mitzi turned to Hermione. "Mitzi is terribly sorry, Madam! The kitchen elves have tried and tried to train her but Winky just won't cooperate." She shook her head sadly.

"What is she doing here, Mitzi? I knew Winky at Hogwarts."

"Master Snape took her on," Mitzi explained frantically. "Winky was freed from her family years ago! The shameless elf! She found work at Hogwarts, but when Master Snape left he took her along. Said she would just get into trouble staying there! Winky is a very bad elf, Madam! Mitzi hopes Madam doesn't let Winky's bad behavior sully her opinion of the Prince Park house-elves! We's never drink on the job! Never, Madam!"

Hermione smiled calmly at the frazzled elf. "I know, Mitzi. Winky just needs time, that's all. Will you take care of her?"

Mitzi bobbed a quick curtsey and snapped her fingers, causing Winky to levitate and float along the corridor. "Mitzi will put Bad Winky to bed, Madam! Bad Winky won't bother Madam anymore!" With that, Mitzi set off towards the house-elves quarters with a now snoring Winky in tow.