These characters and their setting are the property of J. Rowling and her associates and affiliates.

Chapter 21: Two Confrontations

Severus glowered at the detention victim hunched over his paper, writing furiously. The student never glanced at him, his face averted, and there was no trace of submission, or of contrition, in the set of his shoulders or the jerky, belligerent movement of his quill. Hate seemed to radiate from him like an aura, smoldering resentment like a nimbus around his head. Snape crossed his arms a little tighter in irritation. Why was it always Potter who gave him so much trouble? It had to be some sort of curse that he couldn't even get any satisfaction from punishing him! And the stupid child never learned.

His normal antipathy for Harry was magnified by the fact that he had caught him attacking Malfoy from behind. Had he passed by either a moment sooner or later, Snape might have missed the whole miserable thing. But by chance he had turned a corner at just the right time to witness Potter step out from behind his invisibility cloak to fire a paralyzing hex on his godson. The foul sneakiness of it all, and the memory of all the times James had done such things to him, caused his anger to practically choke him. Only years of painfully learned control had kept him from blasting the boy on the spot.

Instead he could only give him a week's worth of detentions. That was what he was supposed to mete out for rough-housing, pranks, and unauthorized dueling, but he wished with all his might that he could take a page out of the false Moody's book and turn his victim into a ferret, or a mouse, and bounce him hard on the floor. The fact that Potter had shown no repentance had made it worse.

"Malfoy deserved it!" he had said, gazing boldly at Severus with those awful green eyes. The sad thing was that he was probably right.

Severus had no delusions as to his godson's behavior. Draco was a Malfoy after all. But he wasn't a copy of Lucius. Despite growing up in that tainted house, he was far from the level of his father's evil. He was haughty and spoiled, and had been taught to be cruel, but he wasn't sadistic. And there was a defensiveness to his showing off, a nuance of buried hurt from indulgent yet neglectful parenting. Draco had been almost pathetically eager to please him, and Severus had tried to give him some strength and discipline. The promise that Draco was not his father made Snape hope for better from him.

Of course Harry wasn't his father either and Snape knew it. He had nowhere near the swaggering arrogance, or the penchant for thoughtless cruelty that James had at that age, but the seeds were there. Snape had noticed a defiant cockiness that first day in class. There had even been a spark of it in the child's face the first time their eyes had locked at the Sorting Ceremony. From the very beginning he had wanted to stamp out that cockiness and nip any James-like tendencies in the bud-- all for the boy's own good of course.

Today, Snape was making him copy records of past detention, records dating back to the days of the Marauders. Let him see the sort of nastiness his "sainted" father got up to in school! James and his gang had been the ultimate of practical jokers. Nothing had delighted them more than attacking from behind. Potter was always lurking behind that cloak, delivering unseen blows, invisible pinches, or a hidden foot stuck out to trip. And he loved the creative use of hexes...

Snape approached Harry and gazed over his tight resentful shoulder. "Ah, yes," he murmured softly, "Here's a typical misdemeanor. Magical attack on an unarmed student. Use of Hunchback Hex-- which is very painful, by the way. And the perpetrators? Well, well. James Potter and Sirius Black..."

Harry Potter scribbled the rest of the card, jerked it onto the finished pile, and started on a new one. Murderous fury clouded his face.

"Hmm... Potter and Black again. How coincidental. Unprovoked attack on a student. Said student needed Hospital wing. Attack deemed premeditated due to the use of ambush. Interesting. Do you, perhaps, see a connection?"

"No." Potter's voice was stony.

"No? Attack by ambush? On a student unarmed? Two students against one, the attackers behind a cloak..."

"It was me against Malfoy, not two against one! And he deserved it. He's attacked me often enough, and you've never punished him!"

"I punish every student I catch Mr. Potter," Snape countered. "Whether Mr. Malfoy has ever attacked you is immaterial. I didn't see him attacking you. I DID see you attacking him, emerging from ambush behind an invisibility cloak to hex him when surprised and unarmed! Those are not actions worthy of the 'Chosen One.' Surely even you can see that!"

Harry gave him a look of bitter resentment and returned to scratching his quill furiously on the cards. Snape ground his teeth at such unrepentant defiance. What was the matter with the boy? Why the continual, stubborn pigheadedness? Yes, Severus had treated him harshly, but he had treated other students just as bad, and some far worse. Why was it Potter who boiled with hatred to the point where it impaired his judgment?

Hermione had once told him Harry suffered from self pity. He felt sorry for himself because of all he had endured, and he resented those who didn't pity him back, or who he felt wronged him. He was the Boy-who-lived after all. He had been orphaned, misunderstood, and constantly in danger of his life. But Snape couldn't help curling his lip. If there was anything he had no patience with it was self pity. Such thinking made a person weak.

Potter had come to school with a chip on his shoulder-- an abused hero who needed a break. The child had had no idea how hard things were going to be for him, and how totally unprepared he was. Like Malfoy, he needed the strength and discipline that he wouldn't get from coddling. Snape regarded his student with a jaundiced expression. Few of the staff had seemed willing to provide that boy with discipline. Dumbledore, Fudge, and all the other well-meaning panderers had created a monster.

The Wizarding World hadn't done Harry any favors. They had abandoned him as a baby only to hail him as a hero when he entered school. How could that not go to a student's head? Severus had been one of those who had always known Harry's ultimate destiny was to fight the Dark lord, and he had not believed in preferential treatment. He had been furious when Dumbledore let Harry be indulged on one hand and thrown to the lions on the other. Such treatment hadn't been a kindness.

Harry Potter had been special, but only because of what happened TO him. Even his enhanced abilities were from the Dark lord's unwitting connection. Harry was special because his mother had died to keep him alive, and because the Dark lord had happened to choose him. No one would wish to be special for that, and Dumbledore had known it. The whole staff had known it, yet instead of treating him exactly the same as the other students, they had fawned over him and singled him out.

From the very beginning he had been allowed special privileges. They had bought him a broom so he could play Quiddich in his first year. They had handed him his father's invisibility cloak-- knowing naturally that he would use it! When he and his friends had meddled about with that stupid Sorcerer's Stone, something completely protected (Dumbledore's Mirror of Erised was foolproof,) instead of receiving at least a reprimand, they were awarded enough points to win Gryffindor the Cup! Of course after that, Potter felt he had Carte Blanche to do whatever he wanted.

His successive infractions were legion: returning to school in a flying car, tossing a firecracker in a boiling cauldron (somebody might have been killed,) brewing Polyjuice Potion in secret and drinking it... Snape paused here to remember that his wife had been responsible for that, no doubt goaded into it by Potter. And look what had happened to her! His pride in her was tempered by outrage at how badly she had endangered herself. She might have remained a cat for life! It was providential that she had been safely petrified when Harry and his sidekick had been storming the Chamber of Secrets...

Every year saw Potter grow bolder. Snape knew the boy was sneaking out of the castle but no one would listen to him. He was sure Dumbledore had known it too, but nothing was ever done to stop it. That child had been allowed freedoms no schoolboy should have had, and he had been allowed to drag his friends into danger with him. It was as though certain members of the staff had wanted to recreate James Potter's marauding little gang. No one had been able to stop them either.

From third year on, Potter began to resemble his father. There was a smugness in his bearing, an "I know something you don't know" in his face. And why not? He could do things no other student could do. He had a map showing him secret ways out of the castle and an invisibility cloak to hide him! He did incredibly foolish things. Starting the Defense Club was bad enough, but dragging innocent students along to storm the Ministry had been selfishly assinine. If he, Severus Snape, hadn't gone for help, they would have all been killed. And Harry blamed him for all the wrongs in his life!

In the end, Harry had only beaten the Dark lord with the help of others. He couldn't have done it without The Order; he couldn't have done it without his friends... and he couldn't have done it without Snape, his expertise fighting the dark arts, and the inside information he provided. But Harry had never forgiven him for that. He still wanted to see Snape as the enemy, to hate him, to blame him for everyone who had died... Well go ahead. I'm used to it! Stubborn little brat...

"You may leave, Mr. Potter, and I will see you next week at the same time. Perhaps you can spend the ensuing days thinking about right and wrong, the difference between self control and self indulgence, strength and weakness. Students can't be allowed to create anarchy by settling personal scores whenever they wish."

Harry got up hastily and prepared to go. His hard, set eyes flashed accusingly at Snape. Severus just couldn't let it go.

"Manners Mr. Potter! When a teacher dismisses you, what do you say?"

"Yes sir." The words were mumbled through clenched teeth.

"What was that?"

"YES SIR!" This time it was shouted. Potter hurried to the door and then paused. "Just because my father bullied you in school doesn't mean you have to do the same to his son! You can't punish him because he's dead, and you already had something to do with that! Maybe YOU should think about right and wrong, and self control versus self indulgence."

Severus felt his face grow hot, and his hands begin to twitch. "Maybe we should add another week of detentions Mr. Potter, and deduct another twenty points from Gryffindor..."

"Yeah, whatever... Sir.

Potter ducked out of the office, leaving Snape clenching his fists in impotent frustration.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Hey 'Mione wait up. Where are you going?" Ron's appearance was unexpected. He seemed a little out of breath, as if he had been running or climbing steps. Perhaps he had been looking for her.

"To the Library, I guess." Ron's face fell. To him a library was a place of torture, not delight. "Where's Harry?" she asked.

"In detention," Ron said scornfully. "Snape caught him jumping Malfoy in the halls and gave him a week of detentions. Saturday detentions! The greasy old git..."

Hermione looked up in surprise. Harry hadn't told her. "Why that's awful! And stupid. Why did he attack Malfoy? There was no reason for it!"

"WHY?" Ron sounded belligerent. "Because Malfoy's a git! You heard what he said to you the other day, the things he called you. He threatened all of us. He needs to be taught a lesson!"

"But Ron, that was only words. Just words! It's not worth fighting over. You know Malfoy's mostly bluster!"

"Yeah? Well he's done some underhanded attacks in the past. Maybe Harry wanted to make sure he thought twice before trying something."

She sighed in exasperation. "That's called a pre-emptive strike, Ron, and it usually leads to war. Haven't we had enough war? Harry should have left Draco alone. He should have ignored him."

Ron smile sideways at her. "It's a guy thing, Hermione. I knew you wouldn't understand. You've always been the cautious one, telling us not to get into trouble. I guess that's the girl thing."

"Well if you or Harry had listened to me more often, we'd have gotten into a lot less trouble!" she countered judiciously.

"Maybe. But we'd have had a lot less fun too. But wait, Hermione. Don't go to the library." His eyes shifted nervously around the noisy hall. "Let's go somewhere just us. I want to talk to you. Private like."

Hermione felt a shiver of excitement under a thick pall of foreboding. She had a sense that she shouldn't do this, that what he would tell her would probably hurt. She should keep heading for the library. He would tell her he was seeing someone and want her blessing. Perhaps he was in love. She didn't want to hear that. He would tell her he was sorry...

Ron beckoned insistently and she allowed herself to follow him to an unused classroom on the fourth floor. He shut the door behind them, and when he turned around, his fresh, handsome face was flushed with red to the point where even his ears glowed. Hermione's foreboding hardened into dread.

"Listen 'Mione," he began. He looked anxious, strained. "You know I've always liked you."

"Well, of course, Ron," she interrupted carefully. "We've been friends since first year."

"Yeah, but not just like that. I...I care about you. I really do. You're... really special to me..."

Ron's voice had caught a little as he spoke and his eyes looked shyly ardent. Hermione realized, with shock, that Ron wasn't telling her what she thought he would. She was conscious of a tragic and frustrating sense of horror, tragic because barely six months ago she would not have felt horror, but wild delight. Now, of course, it was too late. Why is he doing this? What is the good of it now?

"Ron don't..." she began, backing away from him.

The words came in a rush. "I care about you! I love you, and I know that you love me! If it weren't for that stupid Marriage Law, we would have been together. It would have been you and me. We would have been... you know..." Innocent bashfulness kept him from saying the words "lovers."

Hermione's eyes stung. "Possibly," she said softly. "Probably. But why talk about it now? It's too late now." And it hurt like hell to have to say it. To make it final.

"It shouldn't be too late! We love each other! The Marriage Law is a travesty! It's WRONG! They have no right to make people get married if they don't want to, to people they don't want to. They have no right to keep us apart!"

"It is a bad law," she agreed sadly. "Nobody really likes it. And it's caused misery and death already--"

Ron suddenly grabbed her hands, pulling her towards him in an almost feverish sort of way. The hard crush of his fingers hurt. "Look 'Mione, let's just forget the Ministry! Their stupid Law is all shite as far as I'm concerned! Let's pretend it doesn't exist. Who are THEY to tell us what we can or can't do, or who we can love or can't love?"

Hermione drew her hands away from him and backed away again. She felt physically sick and a little dazed. This conversation couldn't really be happening! "What are you saying Ron?" she practically whispered. "Are you suggesting that we should be lovers?"

His fair, freckled face grew even redder. "Well, why not!" he said belligerently. "Government has no right to but into people's personal lives! Why shouldn't we see each other if we want to? We should do whatever we like and to hell with them all!"

"We can't Ron," she answered with deadpan gentleness. "It's wrong."

"What do you mean wrong? We love each other!"

"I'm married."

"Not in a real marriage. It's a forced marriage. It might as well be rape! You can't tell me you're going to let it stand in the way of US?"

"I took vows Ron." Her voice shook. "I made a promise."

"To Snape? So what? You can't have any feelings for that ugly, old git! You only married him because you had to." His dripping scorn bothered her.

"That doesn't really make a difference."

"And he doesn't love you! He's only using you for sex!"

"That doesn't make a difference either." She tried hard to keep her voice steady.

"I don't understand!" Ron shouted. "WHY doesn't it make a difference? Why shouldn't it matter?"

"Because I made a promise! I made a vow to be faithful to him for as long as we are married! I can't break that promise even if I wanted to! It would be morally WRONG!"

"You can't tell me he's faithful to YOU!" Ron countered sneeringly.

"Actually, I think he is," Hermione said in a very tiny voice. "He's very serious about promises, and obligations... and... things like that." She didn't want to think what Severus would do if he knew this conversation was taking place...

Ron shrugged angrily. "Well who cares? He thinks he's so much better than everyone..." He paused and then glared at her accusingly. "What do you mean even if I wanted to? Don't you want to? Don't tell me you CARE about that evil, ugly, greasy old bastard?" The contempt in Ron's voice could have blistered concrete, and Hermione felt more than a little affronted. Severus was her husband. He deserved better than this. He at least deserved respect.

"There's no need to insult him!" Hermione answered angrily. Then she continued in a low, level voice, "I don't want to cheat on him, Ron. He IS my husband! I just couldn't do that to him. It would be unfair as well as wrong." Callous and unfeeling too...

"I thought you loved me Hermione," he said bitterly. "I thought you felt the same way I did."

She reached out to him to take his hands but he flinched away from her. "Look Ron, please. If it weren't for this Marriage Law it would have been you and me. It really would have. But things didn't work out that way. Things happened that none of us could help, and now it's too late. I'm sorry Ron, but I can't do what you want me to."

Ron looked at the floor. "What about after the Marriage Law? What about after it's repealed?"

She looked up confused. "I...I have no idea. I mean, what can I say? I don't know when that will be."

"I'll wait for you if you'll promise me." his voice was low and tense. "If you promise that you'll be mine."

Hermione sputtered in wretched outrage. "But I can't do that either Ron! I can't make a promise to one man while I'm married to another! That's wrong too!"

"You can at least give me some hope! That's all I ask!" The eyes that met hers were stricken. He looked young and bewildered, miserably headstrong and confused. "You have to tell me what to do Hermione! I have to do something. I have to KNOW! It's tearing me up! Either I wait for you, or I don't wait for you. Either I move on, or I don't. I have to know soon!"

Her throat hurt so badly she almost couldn't speak. "I can't tell you to wait for me. How can I ask you to put your life on hold like that? It wouldn't be fair to you."

"But I'd do it. All you have to do is say so."

"I can't Ron. I don't know when the law will be repealed. What if it's never be repealed? Then you'd be tied to a promise you wouldn't be able to keep. That wouldn't be right. And if, as a married woman, I asked you to do that it would be as bad as breaking my own vows."

There was silence for a moment.

"So that's it then," he said quietly. He sounded tired and sad, and strangely, he also sounded a little relieved. She had told him what to do. He didn't have to make a decision any more.

"I guess it is."

Guilt and loss were warring in his eyes. He looked like a man faced with shooting a pet, and Hermione wondered why she should think of that analogy. "Just remember I came to you first Hermione. Just remember you were my first love. Goodbye 'Mione."

"Goodbye Ron," She whispered sadly.

He turned and quickly left the room, and Hermione sat down in one of the empty classroom chairs and cried.