Author's Note: I've always wanted to write a Marriage Law fic, and chatting with ukrainianironbellyy on Tumblr helped me to realise JUST HOW MUCH I needed this fic's particular dynamic (love ya, Dava!)... Now, I warn you: while this IS a Marriage Law fic, there is no UST. No sex. Nada. Nothing. Zero. Zip. Well a few kisses, but nothing sexual.
There, uh, there's still romance, though. Lots of romance. Cuddling will happen. They gonna fall in LURVE. Of course, many thanks to debjunk for being my beta-reader and helping me decide where to split the chapters. :)

Chapter 1 Part 1

Caught up in idly drawing some ingredients and runes on a scrap of parchment, Severus gleefully ignored everything Minerva was saying. Blah blah, end of the year, blah blah, make sure to get your classrooms in order, blah blah, unavailable, blah blah, new laws this coming year, compliance, blah blah, construction elves arrive tomorrow, blah blah, continuing renovations of the school…

He blissfully tuned her out. He had ignored her little speech for well over a decade now, and doubted she had deviated much from Albus's script. The last of the students had left and none of them could wait to be done, so Severus wasn't sure why she bothered.

Longbottom, the surprisingly capable head of Gryffindor, was looking longingly out the window towards the greenhouses, Filius appeared to be dozing, and Poppy was sitting so primly that Severus was certain she was also asleep. Most of the other teachers were amusing themselves as Minerva droned on, with two exceptions: Trelawney didn't usually bother to show (much to everyone's insincere disappointment), and next to him, Hermione was taking notes, as usual. Or at least he assumed it was notes; to be honest he had never asked or looked.

Now he craned his neck surreptitiously to read her neat, rounded handwriting. It took a moment for him to peruse her parchment. She was taking notes, but not on the meeting. Severus doubted she wasn't also hanging on Minerva's every word, but she was writing out her plans for next year's Muggle Studies curriculum. He snorted, and she jabbed her elbow into his side.

Damn, but her elbow was pointy.

Hermione sighed and wrote in large letters: 'Pay attention.'

That raised his eyebrows. What the hell, was he a recalcitrant child now, to be scolded by her? He stole a sideways glance at her, and she was grinning. He slid down in his chair, scowling. He never should have allowed her to worm her way into his admittedly very small circle of friends; she took entirely too many liberties.

Hermione wrote something else: 'Anxious for the summer?'

He nodded imperceptibly.

'Still going to work on that potion again?' She tilted the parchment his way.

He nodded again.

'Well that's rather ambitious of you. Hope you have a spare cauldron.'

A corner of his mouth quirked. Hermione went to put quill to parchment once more but was cut short by Minerva clapping her hands in dismissal and wishing them all a good summer.

Filius toppled out of his chair, while Poppy rose serenely. Longbottom helped Filius up and then hurried to the door but found himself stoppered by the bodies of the other professors. Hermione laughed and shook her head. "Every year."

"Indeed. They're so eager to depart that it's akin to watching the students on the last day of Potions. Little miscreants can't wait to get away from me, thinking I won't take off points for their disgraceful exit."

Severus rose smoothly to his feet, tucking his scraps into his pocket. Hermione neatly stacked her own parchments before accepting his proffered hand.

"And your own plans are unchanged?"

She nodded. "The curriculum is once again in need of updating."

"Still trying to shove too much into their heads in one go?"

Her goal was admirable-to enact change not through the Ministry but in teaching the younger generations-but she overestimated the little dunderheads.

"A witch with your supposed intellect should know by now that it is an exercise in futility."

Hermione pursed her lips together and thumped his side. "No. It just needs to be streamlined, I think. I need to make it, well, fun. They don't all exactly like learning."

"They're not all swots, you mean." He sneered, holding the heavy door open for her.

"Well, no." She ducked under his arm, luckily not catching her bushy hair on the buttons of his sleeve-this time, at least. "I can't believe you're still working on that base. This is your what, fourth summer?"

Severus sighed. "Third. I can't bloody concentrate with the portraits in my lab continuously offering 'assistance', so I am hopeful that my lab at home will provide an atmosphere more conducive to a breakthrough without breaking any further walls."

"I hope so. I'll miss you terribly, though."

"What, did your imbecilic little friends cancel again?" He tried to smother the flush of happiness that her words had instilled within him, raising a curious brow instead.

"No, but they've pushed their visit back until the end of July or start of August. The good news is that I'll get to see Harry's kids this time around. The bad news is that with the rest of the staff gone for the summer, you're my only friend here." She batted her eyes outrageously, clearly trying to make him laugh.

"How pathetic," he said dryly. Still, it made him rather happy to hear it. "If I am what passes for your bungling attempts at friendship—"

She swatted his arm. "Stop that. I rather like you, you cantankerous git."

They stopped at the stairs, she, poised to continue up to the new tower, he, ready to head to the dungeon for his things.

Hermione smiled. "Have a lovely summer, Severus. See you in August?"

He nodded, then tossed his hair back over his shoulder. He needed a trim. "And to you, Hermione. I will be able to receive owls if you insist on badgering me about your lesson plans."

She laughed and leaned on the banister. "Oh, I was planning on it."

As he started down the stairs, she called after him: "I won't tell anyone how much you humor me, don't worry!"

Chit.

Severus Apparated to his front door, holding his valise in one hand as he fished his key from the deep pocket of his frock coat. The bespelled metal key slid neatly into the lock and unraveled his wards; the door, once open, reminded him that he really should have come earlier in the day, to air the depressing place out if nothing else. The air was stale and nine months or so of dust covered every surface.

He scowled and flicked his wand at the mess, then at the windows, which banged open. He set about removing the yellowed sheets from his furniture. He really hoped his basement wasn't in such terrible condition.

Hermione happily affixed several pieces of parchment to the walls. A whole summer with the castle all to herself! She had already raided the library for every book she could feasibly need and had steeped a pot of tea.

'First Years', she wrote at the top of one parchment. Minerva had agreed to make Muggle Studies a mandatory class through fourth year, so she had to rearrange her curriculum and update it…again.

Not that she minded, she told herself, writing out the next few years onto separate parchments. She would teach the most-needed stuff in the mandatory years and then work out the other three years. Hermione loved to rearrange classes. And plan. Timetables and charts were undoubtedly a passion, as was making a difference. She just had to remember what she had taught the would-be next years already so she didn't repeat anything.

Hmm. Tucking her quill behind her ear she turned around to look at her crammed bookshelves. Bugger. Where had she put her lesson plans? After four years of teaching, you'd think she would be better at this part! Once she'd taught, she put them away, and then moved them to get to other resources... Hermione went over her actions in her mind, then remembered exactly where she had put her original plans last summer.

She shifted drafts, essays she'd asked to keep as examples—some were just so very well written—and various other bits and pieces. She really needed a filing cabinet or a proper system…

Hermione grinned as she tugged her lesson plans free. Maybe she was mental, but her summer looked like she would be doing even more organising than she had planned, and she was looking forward to it.

Three days in, and the novelty of reorganising her notes and plans—which she was done with—had worn off. So had being alone in the castle. Hermione sighed and prodded her current notes, leaving splotches of ink behind. She should write to Severus again. He'd answered her last note very tersely, as was to be expected when he was working on a project, but he had at least replied.

Still, she didn't want to bother him too much. It was usually just the two of them in the castle over the summer, though Neville did drop in occasionally to check on the plants. Otherwise he spent his summers with Hannah and Luna. Minerva didn't even stop by, she just left the school's care to the House Elves and let the construction elves go about their business.

Hermione stretched and snagged a fresh piece of parchment. She wouldn't pester Severus quite yet, but she could at least start a new letter. Then perhaps a break—she had been saving some Arithmancy articles as a reward. As much as she loved making a difference, equations were still one of her deep loves.

Severus had had enough. Barely a week into his summer, and they had begun some sort of construction on his street. Regentrification or some such rubbish, he hadn't been paying attention to what the precise end goal was, but it made a great deal of noise and was not conducive to breakthroughs. The workers hadn't even been phased by his vitriol when he'd bellowed at them two days ago.

His jaw tightened at another tremor, and the beaker on the shelf behind him exploded as his magic escaped his control. Bloody hell! It was only half-past six!

The Silencing Charm he'd put up blocked most of the sound, especially from the basement, but the bloody bastards were drilling and hammering. He slammed his stirring rod down, vanished his cauldron's contents, and killed the flame.

That was it. He was done. No more. He would rather face the portraits in his lab than tolerate this nonsense any longer.

He packed quickly, tossing the sheets back over the settee and his reading chair, and locking all of the windows. The wards went up as he locked the door, and he Apparated, unseen, from his front step.

His first stop once he'd made his way to the castle from Hogsmeade was the library, hoping to find a charm or something to silence the nosy portraits in his quarters once and for all. Valise in hand, Severus stopped short at the top of the stairs when he hit a barrier spell.

"Damn," he muttered. This year's renovations must have included the library.

Fine. He turned with an impressive swirl of cloak.

Portraits it was. He'd threaten them with turpentine or something, that should garner him a few hours of silence at a time before their nosiness won over. Persimmonia Wrench, a Potions Mistress from the 1400's, was particularly annoying.

Severus hurried down the stairs and stalked through the corridors only to hit another barrier in front of the dungeon entrance.

"Oh, hell, no." This was not happening. He turned on his heel and billowed his way to the gargoyle guarding the Headmistress's office, and was informed she was out—out! What nonsense was that?!

Hermione blinked at the clock ticking quietly on her bedside table. Just past seven in the morning. That was early, even for her, in the summer. Annoyed, she pulled on her robe and stumbled over the stone floors to her door.

"I'm coming," she muttered as another knock shook the wood. She twisted the knob.

"Where the hell is Minerva?" He blazed past her in a right state of fury. It was impressive; she hadn't seen him so worked up since last year's debacle with the three Hufflepuffs in his supply closet with a full pack of fireworks.

"Severus? Hello to you, too. Won't you come in?" Sarcasm was heavy in her voice as she shut the door. "Tea? If you're going to be snarly this early, I need it."

That drew him up short and he let out an uneven breath. "Please."

"Sit," she ordered. Hermione left him to find a spot on either her sofa or one of her reading chairs as she readied the kettle in her kitchenette. She let him stew as she slowly woke up. He looked terribly awkward as she returned, his thin frame perched as if ready to bolt. "Bad couple of days?"

"Indeed." Severus took the tea tray from her. "It was not my intent to wake you. I forgot the time."

"'S'alright," she said with a yawn.

He lifted the lid to check the steeping and closed it with a sigh.

"What's happened?" Hermione asked with concern.

"Construction," he ground out, then seemed to deflate and looked at her wearily. "They've been doing Merlin-knows-what, and I can't get any work done, even with charms."

"Oh dear." That raised her eyebrows. The man had incredible focus.

"The tremors have upset three of my brews alone. Even potions mixed into their coffee pots haven't deterred them as more take the place of the inconveniently ill, and I find myself unwilling to risk Azkaban for poisoning a few obnoxious Muggles."

He checked the pot again and was obviously satisfied for he began pouring them each a cup. "I came back to my lab, but the library's closed off, as are the dungeons. Minerva isn't in, and the Gargoyle won't tell me where she's gone, the bloody useless thing."

He handed her her milky tea and began scooping copious amounts of sugar into his own. She took a careful sip.

"You really weren't paying attention at the year-end meeting, were you?"

Severus glared at her over his teacup. "I never do. It's the same drivel every bloody year."

"Well, you should have," she sniped. "Minerva's out of contact this summer. This year's renovations are the library and dungeon, which is why I didn't say anything when you planned on being at your house—I thought you knew."

"Obviously not." The glare was now a glower, but he'd long ago lost the ability to phase her. She waved a hand.

"I'm not trying to criticize you, but honestly, Severus!" Hermione huffed. "Well, there's not much recourse left, you'll have to share quarters with me."

He spluttered into his tea. She looked at him, offended.

"I'm not that bad, you know. And I've got plenty of space. I even have a brewing area."

He wiped at his mouth and chin with his handkerchief. "That's all well and good for brewing, but where am I supposed to sleep?"

"With me or on the sofa," Hermione replied tartly. "The bed's big enough, or the sofa is plenty comfortable."

He looked appalled at her suggestion. "Surely I could stay in one of the dormitories."

The man was thankfully wise enough not to suggest Transfiguring her sofa; if he so much as lengthened it she would hex him. He'd ruined her best ottoman two years back, and all of her restoration efforts had been in vain. Minerva's, too, though she hadn't told him that bit.

"Closed for the summer, and warded off to keep Peeves from making a mess. Guest rooms, too."

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

"And before you ask, the Room of Requirement still won't work if you're not conscious. So it's either rent a room over Rosmerta's, sleep at home, or stay with me."

Severus looked like he was seriously considering the Three Broomsticks. He looked at her, eyes glittering.

"I don't think I've seen your brewing room set up."

"After tea. You woke me up, so I need the caffeine," Hermione told him, uncaring how bossy she sounded at the moment.

He nodded and drained his cup. How he managed that without burning his tongue she didn't know, but she sipped demurely at her own beverage. He'd awakend her, so she was going to make him wait.

Severus tried very hard not to leap out of his seat as she took her own sweet time. His head was still reeling that he had more or less been driven out of both his home and chambers for the summer. Short of outright hexing the construction crews—frowned upon, most certainly—his home was uninhabitable for his uses. And while he wasn't particularly fond of renting a room, it all depended on her own brewing space. If it was adequate for his needs, he intended to swallow his pride. After all, it was only a summer, and she was enough of a friend to know when not to push him.

When she'd started teaching at Hogwarts she had come up to him and said: "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. Lovely to meet you, Severus." He had been quite taken with her approach. Longbottom had stuttered and nodded when he had taken his post, but not Hermione. No, she had made it clear that the slate was clean and she wouldn't accept anything less than being an equal.

From there, she had slowly but surely wormed her way in, and he had found himself counting her as a friend before her first year was out. It was a strange feeling, having a friend to whom he didn't feel beholden. She simply swept him up into her fierce heart and tolerated his terrible mood swings. She had even taken refuge in his rooms one night or another when her students went mad over exams and plagued her mercilessly.

Severus had no doubts that they could coexist in the same rooms for a few months without outright bloodshed, and was relieved that when she set down her teacup, it was empty.

"Now?" he asked testily.

She nodded and rose. "It's over here."

He followed her through the far door to the room he used as a study in his own chambers. It was spacious enough, holding several texts, supply shelves, and two work benches. The castle seemed to like her enough to have installed a sink under the window, and her paltry collection of clean cauldrons sat in a pile next to it.

"Probably not what you're used to," Hermione said, stifling a yawn, "but it should be enough for a summer, right? I don't do enough of my own brewing except for the monthly sort, so I wouldn't be puttering around and leering over your shoulder."

"As if you could see over it," he purred.

Yes, the room was very nice, and devoid of any frames or portraits.

"I can brew for you, you know."

"If you want to. Double points to you if you can make it taste less foul."

"Probably." There were several additives that could change a potion's taste. "The sofa, you said?"

That was the safest of his two choices. He'd never shared a bed with anyone.

"I can clear out some toiletry and wardrobe space, too," Hermione offered. "No sense living out of your bag if you don't have to. I can pack up my winter wear, that should free up plenty of room."

"Any annoying habits I should know about?"

"None that you don't already. Unless you're going to share the bed with me, of course. Then I must warn you that I snuggle in my sleep."

"Do you?"

"Don't even think about blackmailing me," she warned. "Or rather, stop thinking about it."

Severus smirked down at her bushy head. "The sofa is sufficient. Should my back protest, we can switch."

Hermione snorted, already walking towards her bedroom. There wasn't the slightest chance she was going to sleep on the sofa in her own rooms.

"Throw together something for breakfast, would you? I'm going to change."

By mid-June, they had worked out a rather comfortable routine. Severus had never lived so easily with someone before—not at home, not at school, and certainly not while Pettigrew had been stinking up his house—and found that he actually quite enjoyed living with Hermione.

Hermione, for her part, found Severus to be the most agreeable roommate she could have ever asked for. More comfortable than living with her parents, and far better than the time spent with Ron and Harry. He didn't make noises of disgust or try to pity her when her period came, he simply brewed her potions and left her alone. He let her talk to herself when she was musing out a problem, and even made several helpful (for him) suggestions in regards to her curriculum.

Each morning, Severus was the first up, folding his blankets and placing them on the back of the very-comfortable sofa before checking on his brew. Hermione would wake as the shower started, and by the time he exited, followed by warm, wet air, she was awake enough to use the loo and join him for a bleary-eyed breakfast in her kitchen.

She extricated him from his work for lunch, and they discussed several subjects, from personal to academic. Hermione learned that if she turned on the Wizarding Wireless while she worked he would put up a Silencing charm so he didn't have to hear it, and he discovered the utter joy of goading her into arguments when he was feeling tetchy.

To be completely honest, Hermione instigated several fights as well, and was pleased that she was far better at slamming a door than he was, even if he did make rather spectacular exits. They were fairly evenly matched otherwise, as she went for name-calling and he went for viciousness. By the end of an argument they were both having a great deal of fun and never apologised beyond one bringing the other a cup of tea.

Severus willingly helped her with her plans, and even handed over equations for her to solve so that he wouldn't have to "waste his time with the bloody things instead of working on the delicate state of his potion".

It worked for them both.

"AHA!" he shouted one Thursday from 'his' lab. "I knew it. Bloody arse-kissing—" The rest was lost in triumphant mutters, and Hermione rose from her note cards, hurrying into the room.

"You did it?" she asked, beaming.

Severus was wearing a leather apron, his white sleeves pushed back to his elbows, and his hair tied out of his face. Two cauldrons bubbled away merrily on the table behind him.

"Yes," Severus replied, his black eyes glittering. "Told them all I was right at the last conference, didn't I? Bunch of empty-headed cauldron-licking—"

Hermione laughed and hugged him, interrupting his tirade. "I'm so happy for you!"

His arms came slowly around her, awkwardly, returning the embrace.

The start of July came, and Hermione found a cluster of sweet peas in a vase on her coffee table one morning. The pink blooms looked lovely against the coffee of the wood.

"Severus?" she questioned.

He looked up from his Potions journal with a glint of silver as his reading glasses caught the morning light.

"Picked some for a potion this morning," was all he said before burrowing his nose back into his publication.

A few days later, and Hermione made a disgusted noise, drawing him from the lab. "What is it now?"

She tossed the Prophet at him in a huff. "More Ministry stupidity in the works. Tea?"

"One moment." Severus disappeared then reappeared, drying his hands. Dried sweet pea petals clung to his shirt. He fished his spectacles out of an apron pocket before putting them on and frowning at the paper.

"They're pondering a Marriage Law? That hasn't been done for at least three hundred years, and the last time they even considered one was after the first World War."

He perused the rest of the article, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

"Apparently numbers are low enough that they're panicking." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. I'm willing to bet that more witches and wizards are settling into a career first, that's all."

"Most likely," Severus agreed, handing her back her paper. "However, as the Ministry is full of incompetent morons incapable of reaching that conclusion even with a detailed map; you had best begin drawing up a list of wizards you're unopposed to being forced to bed, just in case."

Hermione stared at him, a panicked expression on her upturned face. "You don't think they'll go through with it, do you?"

"They may or may not. I have no faith in the current administration, and given the alacrity with which you left your Ministry job, I doubt you have much more."

Clearly she wanted to discuss this; he dropped into a chair, knee creaking.

"You know I don't. However, I meant the 'force' part. I want children, someday, but I don't really want to have to lie back and think of Wizarding Britain while it happens." She looked unhappy. "I—forgive me if this is terribly blunt, but I don't much care for sex. It feels nice but…I mean, sometimes I'm aroused, but I'm never attracted to anyone. It's just not there. I like kissing, but not slobbery snogging, and I like the closeness of an embrace, but I never have that pull to anyone that says 'ooh, yes, let's jump into bed'. It's one of the reasons why I don't date anymore. All they want is sex, sex, sex, and I couldn't care less. I just don't see people that way."

He raised an eyebrow and she flushed before continuing. Now that she had spoken she seemed incapable of ceasing.

"I mean, I don't...I don't feel that way about anyone. Men or women. I like the being-in-love part, but I have zero sex drive and it becomes a point of contention far too quickly. It ruins all of my relationships."

Severus merely stared at her, his expression inscrutable.

Hermione watched him unhappily, her mind running over unattached wizards she could stand to be with for what was possibly a long time. The list was very, very short. If only she cared for Severus that way, this would be an easy choice. Just propose and put up with the sex part. It wasn't horrible, just...well, it was nice enough, she supposed, but it wasn't something she ever really found herself wanting.

"At least you can stand it," Severus admitted quietly. "I find the whole idea utterly repulsive, and have never found myself interested in anyone—or any thing—in that manner, either."

"You don't?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I thought that, well..."

"That you were alone?" He shook his head. Merlin save him from terrible education.

"Well, growing up, the joke was that girls never seem to like it as much as boys, so I just thought that I was normal, at first. But then everyone else seemed to enjoy it so much so I thought I was broken or something. I've never felt that attraction or desire, I just thought that I should." Hermione looked relieved. "I never bothered to research it."

"I did." Severus tipped his head back, cracking his neck. She winced at the sound. "And although I doubt that most in the wizarding world would discuss it openly, suffice to say that I am perfectly normal, as are you. Unfortunately, if the Ministry does manage to push that law through, we'll both be trapped."

Hermione made a mental note to look up sexualities. Why hadn't she researched it before? Why wasn't it taught? Maybe she could work it into her curriculum somehow. Fifth year would be good. Still... they were both going to end up stuck. Unless they left the country. She liked England and her job in Scotland and didn't want to go. Severus, though...she wasn't sure if he would be willing to go. As much as he wriggled his way out of nearly every chaperone opportunity for Hogsmeade, he wasn't the type to run. Were there to be exceptions for teachers?

"Tea?" Severus offered sourly, and she nodded, musing things over in her head.

She did like Severus, though she wasn't in love with him. Then again, she wasn't in love with anyone currently, and didn't really think she had been-not since things with Ron had gone merrily to hell. Honestly, there wasn't even anyone she could live with without wanting to boss them about! Well, except Severus.

The man in question returned with tea and a plate of biscuits. She bit into one contemplatively.

A marriage before the law would probably be an exemption for forced intercourse, which was good to know. She did want children, but there were ways for that to happen without actual sex. Then again, none of the available males she knew would be suitable parents. Most of them, honestly, were a little too dim for her tastes, or prone to being rather lax with children who were misbehaving. Except Severus, of course.

Hermione accepted her tea cup as Severus picked up the paper to look over the article again. The man looked like someone had shat into his jam. 'Except Severus?' Everything boiled down to except Severus.

"Trapped," he said again, utterly disgusted and throwing the paper down. Merlin curse the Ministry and their stupidity.

Hermione nodded slowly, watching himas he glowered over his tea cup at her. Damn it, he knew that look. The witch was plotting something he probably wouldn't like.

"Unless we do something pre-emptively," she said.

One eyebrow arched, nearly to his hairline. "Such as? I refuse to let you start a protest."

"Wouldn't work," she told him with a scowl. "Not until they've done the damage. The Ministry hasn't got three brain cells to rub together when it comes to decision making. Now, what if—and don't be offended—what if we got married, the two of us?"

Both eyebrows rose now and he opened his mouth to retort.

"Before you bite my head off, just listen. If we do it before the law, they can't force us to have sex, and we get along well enough, obviously."

Severus tilted his head, considering her. "What about living arrangements? And how would you go about the children that you eventually desire?"

"You're actually thinking about it?" Hermione looked delighted. "Well, there's artificial insemination. How do you feel about wanking?"

"It's none of your bloody business!"

Heat crept up his cheeks, but he caved to her patient and expectant look with a sigh. "It is tolerable, and I am certain that there are potions or charms that can pinpoint the proper moment so it is not needed every bloody month."

Hermione nodded. "And kissing? I'm rather affectionate."

Severus recoiled. "I am not engaging in snogging."

Giggling, Hermione patted his hand. "No, I mean the nice, normal kind. Not the tongue-down-your-throat thing."

He paused, and couldn't force any words past the cage of his teeth. This whole day had taken a rather surreal turn. Why was he still sitting here? He should have bolted, started selling his house and looking for land on the continent, anything other than sitting and contemplating marrying a colleague.

"May I?" She leaned out of her seat.

He nodded tightly, and she merely brushed her lips over the back of his hand. Dry, pleasant. Severus swallowed heavily, finding his voice again.

"I am...unopposed."

"Brilliant." Hermione settled back into her seat. "There we are, then. Something to consider before it goes into effect, if it's going to."

Severus stared thoughtfully into the low fire for a long moment. The Prophet was so rarely right, but still... He rose abruptly to his feet and took a pinch of her Floo powder. Ignoring her nosy little questions, he tossed it into the flames. "Malfoy Manor."

There was a moment as an elf alerted the house, and then Narcissa's head appeared. "Severus? Goodness, what a surprise. How are you?"

"Well enough. Is Lucius in?"

She sighed, but disappeared. The fire remained emerald green, but no head appeared.

"I'm not creasing my trousers. Not even for you, Severus."

Hermione let out a quiet giggle.

"Have you seen this morning's Prophet?"

"Over toast. With caviar. I do believe Cissy wants something that sparkles if that's what she ordered for me."

Severus paused. "It's your anniversary."

"Oh, hell."

"Quite. My original query?"

"Yes, yes. The law, I suppose, is your concern."

If anyone was going to know, it was Lucius. He had his nose or coin purse in everything.

"Obviously," Severus drawled.

Hermione looked fascinated at the exchange. "How much truth is in it?"

"From what I hear, that article is as close to a warning as we will get before it is upon us. I imagine not more than a month, as they're quite adamant about pushing it through. Not much opposition, either. Anyone not wed or with children between childbearing ages will be thrown into marital bliss." Lucius's tone was bitter. "Draco is among them, and I am introducing him to the Greengrass's daughters this evening."

"I hope he finds someone," Severus said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his own voice.

"And you? Going to move to the continent, perhaps? You know your old master would probably love to put up with you again. I hear the man's senile now, he wouldn't even remember your...charming personality."

"I will think of something. There is time."

"Academia is not exempt," Lucius's voice floated warningly out of the fire. "And our dear Minister uses a tester for his food and drink. Rather more clever of him than I had thought, but there it is."

"Noted. Have a pleasant anniversary."

There was some muttered cursing, but the fire flickered back to gold and red. Severus wiped a tired hand over his face.

"Damn."

"Indeed." Hermione replied, scrunching up her nose and looking rather sour.

He returned to his seat, dropping heavily into it.

"You are truly willing to marry me?"

She shrugged. "I like you. You're my friend. You're not going to push me into bed. We don't even have to decide right now. It's something to think about, is all."

Severus was quiet for a long while. "You would have to give up your rooms."

"I know. You're a Head of House and need to be close to the Slytherin dorms. I'm not a Head, so there can't be any question of favouritism. No one will expect either of us to display much affection, either, if you're worried about it. And I bet the full of extent of your quarters are larger than mine. They'd have to be to house all the books." Hermione closed her mouth with considerable effort, and he relaxed. When she wasn't prattling on, it was easier to contemplate all of...this. Them.

"True."

They could always enlarge a room or hope the castle understood their need.

"We don't have to decide today," Hermione said gently. "We should think on it, both of us. Just because it's a brilliant idea right now doesn't mean it will be tomorrow."

Severus nodded. But if Lucius, with his connections and role within the Ministry was correct in his estimation, it may be their only recourse.

Hermione pondered her own proposition through most of the evening after Severus had gone back to brewing. He'd looked a little shell-shocked, and she didn't blame him. It had been a day of revelations: she had never meant to admit her sexual history, or propose, no matter how brilliant she had thought the idea at the time.

The problem was, it was still brilliant.