CXVIII
If a bomb were to explode under his nose at that moment, Severus wouldn't have noticed.
He'd authored a logic puzzle on only one occasion.
Fuck!
A memory, long suppressed, washed over him.
Severus waited to examine the loathsome brat. He and his friends had achieved what had to be the most stupid stunt ever undertaken by first-year students. He eavesdropped as Albus questioned the child. Potter claimed to have faced the Dark Lord. The so-called Marauders fell short in comparison to this Gryffindor's audacity.
"...Hermione solved that potions puzzle. Only took her about forty seconds."
It couldn't be true.
CXIX
The air vanished from Severus' lungs and his heart went colder than a dead toad. His vision blurred and sound held no meaning. Everything went numb.
Maybe his soul tried to Disapparate, leaving behind a spirit-splinched husk?
The May Queen—his wife —was none other than Hermione Granger.
It had been in front of him the whole time. Her insatiable need to succeed, to get the best grades. "Never anything less than an E," she'd said. Her ignorance of pure-blooded magical dogma. Quidditch players as boyfriends but hating the game. Minerva's wrath.
Why did it feel so right?
He was completely fucked.
CXX
Severus' wife, Hermione Granger, sat beside him wide-eyed with one hand clapped over her mouth. She was probably holding her breath, waiting for his infamous temper to break.
Threads of implication, hidden agendas and tendrils of manipulation twisted together into a complicated rope with which he battened down his feelings in the name of self-preservation.
The May Queen's identity had been a closely guarded secret. Rumours implied she was hand-selected by the Ministry.
He hated surprises. This was planned, an expected surprise of a temporary nature. Not handfasted for a year and a day.
Could their marriage work? Should it?
CXXI
Severus could see through her disguise now, as clear as the pert nose on her face.
He'd never really noticed the warmth of the colour of her eyes before. If they'd been narrowed in irritation or suspicion, he'd have recognised her sooner.
Her ridiculous riot of curls masquerading as hair was bound up into a twist held in check by the blooming crown of flowers and spellwork.
Was Miss Granger as well versed as he was in the meaning of flowers?
Forsythia. Anticipation.
Apple Blossom. Fertility.
White Heather. Dreams made true.
Merlin, she's beautiful, he thought.
When did that happen?
CXXII
Severus had many questions. Had she known who he was beforehand? Equally disturbing, had she blindly bound herself in a magical handfasting to a stranger?
Scraps of Granger-gossip came back to Severus. She'd been unsuccessful in her social life, a late bloomer whose fame assured that every misstep was broadcast for all of the Wizarding world's amusement.
Her relationship with Ronald Weasley failed to last after the war. Frankly, Severus hadn't thought Ronald Weasley was worthy of her.
Severus cringed as he analyzed his own potential as a husband. He was old, ugly and unpleasant.
I'm not good enough, either.
CXXIII
Slow down, son. Think this through. The God spoke directly into Severus' mind. It was becoming a habit.
She likes Quidditch Players.
Severus could fly unassisted. That was close, right? He never played Quidditch outside of alumni games once a year. Where was his old uniform?
She craves knowledge.
He could see himself searching for obscure manuscripts with Hermione. Quiet afternoon teas with stimulating conversation. Would she enjoy the odd ingredient-harvesting expedition?
She's powerful.
Severus could stay a step ahead of her, be her partner. Their magic was highly compatible, as they discovered earlier.
Would she give him a chance?
CXXIV
Severus didn't expect her to forget his behaviour as her teacher, but could Hermione forgive him for being… himself?
She understood better than most what he'd been through. She was present for every excruciating moment of his trial. She'd given an impassioned testimony in his defence, and together she and Potter ultimately swayed the decision of the Wizengamot.
He'd been meaning to thank her.
Hermione's heart was large enough to encompass Argus and his cat. Her capacity for patience enabled her to coexist with Potter and Weasley for months without killing either of them.
That last thought was particularly heartening.
CXXV
We need to be careful of our mates, said the God. Yours might not harness magma and wield tempests, but all females are forces of creation and destruction.
It isn't just Hermione, answered Severus. She's a Gryffindor.
Married to Granger, he'd be forced to associate with Potter.
And the Weasleys.
Good Godric, she has parents!
Severus was running out of objections. His resistance was merely a habitual reflex. He'd made promises and he would keep them.
I won't know a moment's peace.
The God whispered, That is because you'll never be alone again.
Severus took a deep breath. I'm ready.
AN:
For the grangersnape100 Spring Fever Challenge.
Thanks to Toodleoo, Havelocked, deweydecimateher, and Qdrew for their beta support. :)