CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT—Announcement
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As Death Eaters filed into the dining room, Narcissa, Lucius and Draco graciously invited each person to their annual Christmas party.
Narcissa hid the pain well. Ministry elite used to be the bulk of the guest list. She would decorate the entire house with a new theme each year. Severus would stay for about an hour because Narcissa expressly always invited him. This year would be a different sort of affair.
They all took their seats, most murmuring about the fancy party they were invited to attend for the first time.
Beggars can't be choosers, Severus reasoned. Narcissa lived to entertain and hadn't done so but for housing the Dark Lord and her crazy sister all year.
The Dark Lord lounged at the head of the table. Severus could not tell if he was pleased or disgusted at the excitement.
"M'lord," Amycus said. He rose from his seat at the other end of the table. "Before we get started, I wanted to put one matter to rest."
Now the Dark Lord looked amused. "Please, do."
Bellatrix snickered.
"The Mudblood girl, Granger," he said. "Is married to Potter."
Whispers exploded around the long table.
The Dark Lord became very still. With his purple-pale skin he looked like a cadaver.
"Is she?" he breathed.
Carrow looked malevolent and pleased. Severus felt the safest he had all year, in that moment.
"Such audacity," the Dark Lord continued.
Severus noticed the Dark Lord's fist shaking from holding his wand too tightly.
Severus had to remind himself to breathe. He never dared to use his Legilimency on the Dark Lord, but in this case, he didn't need to.
The Dark Lord turned his lipless face to Bellatrix, at his right hand. "You will dispose of her, Bellatrix."
Bellatrix gave him a wide smile with all of her jagged teeth.
"I will do so happily, my Lord," she said, voice trembling with excitement.
"She has taken much time from our meetings," the Dark Lord said to the room at large. "And has spat in the face of each man here who has lowered himself to ask to wed her."
The wizards murmured in agreement.
"I trust you all agree with me, when I say Bellatrix will do what we all do best," he concluded.
The room burst into jeers.
Severus felt a chill explode from the base of his neck, down his back and ribs.
People offered Bellatrix advice and put in their own requests. The Dark Lord left the room—the rage he felt at Hermione trumped whatever he had wanted to discuss.
Most exited soon after the Dark Lord had. Bellatrix swooped in behind him before he could push out his chair.
In his ear, she hissed, "Should I expect you to hinder me in this kill as well?"
"Has anyone ever stopped the great Bellatrix?" he replied, equally furtive.
"They've certainly tried." She dug her nails into his shoulder blades before she released him.
…
Hermione was in her uniform, lounging across the couch, hair hanging over the arm.
Severus stopped at the end of the sofa. She let the magazine lie against her chest to look at him.
Finally alone, he was able to ask.
"Did you tell Carrow you were married to Potter?" He didn't want to say it too loud. To give it power.
She cleared her throat. "He and I agreed that would be a plausible answer. Carrow seemed to believe me." She hid behind the magazine.
Severus's chest and throat felt tight. "He did."
"Good. Now they won't have any cause to dig any further." Hermione flipped to the next page.
"Do not leave this castle," he said.
She slowly lowered the magazine to give him the harshest glare she'd ever pointed his way.
"Excuse me?" she asked, a bomb about to ignite.
Severus grabbed the back of the couch to lean closer. "Do you think the Dark Lord is going to let another woman come between him and slaughtering Potter?"
She didn't remove the glare but he heard the magazine crinkle in her grip.
"He was going to have to go through me first whether we're married or not," she declared. She resumed reading.
Severus felt all the heat leave his body. "You're serious?" he asked. What the bloody hell was so great about these Potters that people just threw themselves in front of Unforgivables for them?
"Yes, I'm serious," she spat. She tossed the magazine on the table. "Harry is my friend. And at the moment, he and the Weasleys are all I have." She rolled off the couch and straightened her shirt. "And you, when you're feeling nice."
Severus put his hands on his hips lest he shake some sense into her. "You're a fool," he hissed.
"I am really—bloody—tired." She struggled to stay calm. "Of you—calling—me—stupid."
"When have I once said you were stupid?" he demanded.
"Every bloody day! With your face and your—your rude comments! I get it! You're used to being the smartest person in the room!" she shouted. "Bully for you! That doesn't mean everyone else is stupid!"
"Only a fool expects to face the Dark Lord down and live."
"Does that make you the biggest fool of us, then?" she snapped.
"I don't intend to live in the end," he spat. "You," he went on when all she did was draw in a sharp breath, "have. A life. Worth. Living."
Her arms vibrated at her sides.
The two both acted as if they'd run around the school a few times, unable to regain their breath.
Crooskhanks rubbed his body along Severus's leg.
Severus dropped his face into his hand. "Why?" he asked.
"He likes you," Hermione said. She knelt down and clicked to the cat, still angry.
She held the cat like a baby. "He's half-kneazle," she said. She looked a smidge less mad.
"He's all fur," he retorted as he turned on his heel.
"You're his dad now!" she called after him.
"I most certainly am not," he called back.
"He's teasing, Crooks," he heard her reassure the beast.
He shut the door to the bedroom behind him.
He was still incensed. She had everything before her. An entire life.
It would be just his luck he'd outlive her, as well. He would not be able to live with himself. Not again. Not another twenty years.
He slammed the edge of his fist against the stone wall beside him.
This is exactly why this marriage was a bad idea. He did not have time worry about her.
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For the rest of the night, Severus remained…twitchy. He couldn't sit still to focus on anything. Hermione watched him, sometimes blatantly, and he didn't even notice. Finally he turned into bed early, even though that would double the amount of brewing he had to do tomorrow.
To be honest, she did not want to know what could freak him out. Severus was the scariest thing in Hogwarts for a long time. Anything that could scare him was, well, probably Voldemort, but he saw Voldemort at least once a month and never came back stiff and twitchy. Bleeding and broken and bruised, but not spooked.
She turned in early as well, his nerves making her anxious. She passed through the room to ready in her own bedroom and sensed he was still awake, though in the dark and in bed.
She crawled into bed and found he was on his back with his arms crossed. He had his eyes shut and his usual scowl on his pale face.
If he had been in a better mood she might've made a comment about vampirism. Then she figured that would have been a bad idea regardless of his mood.
She curled onto her side away from him. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He ignored her.
Hermione sighed. "It's not like I leave the castle anyway," she said, loud enough for him to hear.
He still said nothing. So she eventually went to sleep, studiously avoiding thoughts of what could scare Severus so badly.
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Severus ripped open his eyes. The bedroom was quiet but for his ragged breathing. His heart pumped blood through his arms, his body ready to fight. Sweat cooled on his forehead; he opened his mouth to breathe.
The stone room was black but came into focus, a thin light from the living room fireplace seeping under the door. Severus slowly turned his head on the pillow. Hermione lay on her side, hair sprawled out over her shoulder.
Severus reached out. He pulled her tangled brown curls from her neck.
He realized he held his breath when he let it out, glad Bellatrix had not slashed Hermione's throat while they slept. The man leaned on his elbow to make sure she was uninjured.
Bellatrix couldn't enter the castle without help. She couldn't get in here, to Severus's rooms, without him knowing.
Severus pressed his shaking fingers to her pulse point in her neck. She did not wake but she did breathe. He rolled onto his back once more. The choking sounds crept in even as he covered his ears with both hands. He shifted so the heels of his hands pressed deep into his eyes.
"Fuck," he whispered. He could not deal with all this right now. He knew this—this entanglement would drag him down. He had to spend the rest of the night Occluding the nightmare—the blood on Hermione's throat, Bellatrix's crippling laugh, Severus having to stand back and watch it happen—Occluding the way Hermione laughed at Severus's comments when others would have balked—how warm it was in the dungeons with her around to combat the chill at night. All of it.