"Will you be my wife, Hermione?", those words of Snape continued to echo in Granger's thoughts as she frantically tried to figure out what to do with her life next. She had to make the decision on whether to accept or to reject Snape's unexpected offer until next midnight.
Of course, his words excited her, but she continued to look around in confusion as if the recently started snowfall could provide an answer to his question.
Hermione acquired a chance to become Snape's wife. Her inner voice sarcastically suggested that this option was much better than seeking political asylum in Australia. Especially now, since Hermione would not have to leave England, it would be possible to continue her apprenticeship at Hogwarts and prepare for the Mistress of Defense against the Dark Arts degree. Nevertheless, the cold calculation did not help her feelings that were in disarray.
Hermione didn't know how to react to Snape. And the point was not at all that he was almost two decades older than her, and, in truth, he had a rather dark past.
"You could have chosen Remus," a cheerful inner voice whispered to her, but Hermione just brushed it off with annoyance.
She didn't mind becoming Madame Snape at all, and the realization of this fact frustrated her to no end. Those few months spent with Snape told Hermione much more than the secretive and eternally immersed former professor could ever tell her himself. They underestimated Snape, all of them who had the misfortune of knowing him in the past, and of course, Hermione was no exception. She always believed that he was full of unresolved problems, past regrets, and old scars, but the work under his patronage and his actions, both as her mentor and as the Head of Slytherin, made her understand many things, making her laugh sadly at her own naivety...
Hermione had the feeling that all the inhabitants of Hogwarts outgrow their pain and just moved on. Snape didn't have time for unnecessary thinking about his own past. He took care of an entire faculty of children left without parental support. He helped to rebuild the Castle and establish the educational process. Snape wrote theses on improving existing potions or worked on improving the Wolfsbane. He looked for a cure for Narcissa Malfoy, who wasn't feeling well after the War, and of course, Snape answered Hermione's endless questions about Forbidden Potions.
His unquenchable enthusiasm and stubbornness made her follow his example. Hermione watched without commenting on his behavior, and each of his actions evoked deep gratitude in her soul. As if by chance, he taught her to be better than her current version of herself.
On one dusky and rainy evening, when Hermione happened to work late on another version of the scar ointment that she had been struggling with in vain for several months, the light flickering from under the door of the Head's office caught her attention. Hermione had noticed that Snape preferred to work on his projects until dawn. He never wasted time on sleep or other unnecessary things: like food or tea. That's why the fact that he still had not gone to bed did not surprise her. She was surprised by the childish voice that sounded from the office. The owner of the whiny intonations was a girl from Gryffindor - Emilia Adams, who fell victim to an attack of one of Greyback's men. She was lucky, she escaped with only a scar, avoiding infection, but this did not stop her classmates from declaring Emilia an outcast. Hermione frowned and stepped closer, listening. Snape said something in a muffled tone, trying not to scare the already upset girl with his comments.
"They said, sir, they said that I was a werewolf, and there was no place for me among normal people," Emilia whimpered, wiping her nose with her sleeve. Hermione opened the door. Snape sat the girl down next to him on the sofa and offered her a handkerchief.
"So, who sets the criteria for normality, tell me, Millie?" Snape asked seriously.
"I thought they were my friends, but they drove me out of the Tower and told me not to appear in the bedrooms again, because I have scars. And if Granny finds out about this, she will never accept me at home again."
Emilia kept talking, while Hermione felt anger boiling inside her: how many more children like Miss Adams were there in the Castle: blinded by prejudice against which the best wizards and witches of Britain fought and gave their lives? It wasn't even that the rivalry was coming from Gryffindor. Hermione knew Ravenclaw Prefect, a brilliant graduate whose magic reserves had dwindled so much during the War that she had practically become a Squib. The Slytherin 5th year boy had lost the ability to use his wand hand, and Snape personally spent days and nights developing an anti-paralysis potion, while Flitwick taught the boy how to use his other hand. Hufflepuff freshmen slept huddled together like cubs or badgers because their parents feared for their children's lives so much that they never left them alone.
How many more broken destinies did the wise walls of Hogwarts keep?
"Scars don't make us outcasts, Emilia," Snape said quietly, "they just show that we were able to survive where others could not. Yes, our scars are unlikely to bring us happiness, but no one has the right to reproach us for being different from others. As for your peers, I will bring information to Professor Lupin, it seems that he is temporarily heading Gryffindor, helping the Headmistress. I'm sure he gives them an entertaining lecture on the life of werewolves."
Emilia sniffed and turned to see Hermione frozen in the doorway. Snape nodded and motioned for her to sit. Hermione hesitated for a few moments, made up her mind, and carefully sat down on the edge of the sofa. Rage bubbled through her. Everything she fought against was ready to go to dust due to the cruelty of unreasonable children. She fiddled with the hem of her jacket thoughtfully, not noticing that her own scar, left by Bellatrix, was on display.
Miss Adams, quick-witted like all children, ran back, clutching a note from Snape to be given to Remus to her chest, while Hermione remained in the room, pensively watching the play of flames in the brightly burning fireplace.
"Has it all been in vain?" Hermione muttered in a low tone, clutching her scarred wrist to her chest. "It won't be long before a new generation of children will grow up, and everyone will forget about the horrors of war and what we fought for?"
"I'd guess it's all for the best, Miss Granger, because that was the point: to give this world a new future free from nightmares and prejudices. As for the children, rest assured, I will take care of them. I think that a trip to St. Mungo, to the department of victims of the Dark Curses, will open their eyes to many things, and the remaining lesson will be taught by Remus, who will honestly tell them how werewolves lived before the war."
"It's cruel."
"Indeed, it is. Most children are cruel, this does not mean that we should mollycoddle them."
"Nevertheless, you keep helping orphans and those in need, why?"
"Probably because they are like flowers, haven't yet bloomed, and only we can let them wither or bloom. I have my own share of scars, and I am not ashamed of them, so I do not want them to be ashamed of theirs."
Snape tried to get ahead of time and prove to himself that he was worthy of a second chance. Not to say that there was even the first in his life. All his hopes had once melted like dew under the sun, but he was not going to give up. He gave Hermione time until midnight, not rushing her to answer.
His heart sank again at the memory of how he held her in his arms: she was alive, slightly confused, but still adamant in her determination, and beautiful in her own stubbornness. If the Gryffindor Lioness decided something for herself, it was difficult, almost impossible to convince her otherwise. In this, they were very similar. This and in a dozen other things.
Snape was surprised to realize that he had really gotten to know Hermione better. During these several months that they worked side by side, she opened up for him from many sides. He finally understood the character features of her, which he chose not to notice during their misfortuned first marriage. Snape was hiding behind his own bad character and despising the whole world for past misdeeds.
Hermione was determined. She possessed a heightened sense of justice, naively believing that in her hands there was the strength to change the usual way of things. She was also a workaholic, an incorrigible perfectionist with an idealistic outlook on life and exaggerated expectations. After that conversation in his office, she always gathered children around her and conducted additional classes with them on various subjects, as if she were trying to fill the void in her heart in this way. Not that Snape didn't understand her.
Who knew what the future would bring them...
So, when the clock struck eleven, Hermione knocked on his office and resolutely walked in, standing right in front of him. She was wearing simple Muggle jeans and a white polka dot shirt, her hair pulled back in a bun, and a dozen pendants dangling from her wrist: if Snape remembered correctly, Harry had given her this trinket last Christmas and she was out of herself with happiness, having got hold of a bright and absolutely meaningless bracelet. Not exactly the way he imagined their wedding, but did fate ever go in unison with his desires?
"I'm ready, Severus, I am ready to become your wife."
And at the same moment, Minerva, Luna, Lucius, and Flitwick entered the office, as if they only were waiting for a sign from Hermione.
Severus did not remember the ceremony itself. Minerva, as usual, gave a heartfelt speech, urging the newlyweds to love and respect each other. Lucius wished his friend many happy years, as he and Narcissa had. Luna hinted at the possibility of the birth of heirs - strong and intelligent magicians, the smartest in the history of Hogwarts. Severus pretended not to notice Hermione's gaze averted sadly. Filius, on the other hand, did not notice the confusion of the bride and groom at all, he was too preoccupied with the wizarding camera - his new hobby, which absorbed him entirely.
When Minerva, by the will of magic, declared them husband and wife, Filius snapped the shutter, capturing the moment in the photo. The couple was showered with a sheaf of golden sparks, promising a happy and long marriage. Hermione looked into Snape's eyes and smiled broadly.
It was not a forced smile with a shadow of gratitude, like the first time, today, a few minutes before midnight, she was really happy to be here. And the bouquet of barely blossoming tulips, presented by Severus, only emphasized this fact.
They became husband and wife.
"Welcome home, Madame Snape," Severus whispered a little later, terribly proud of himself, and, in obedience to an ancient tradition, carried her across the threshold.