A/N: This is my response to the WIKTT Marriage Law challenge. The Challenge was posed before the release of The Half-blood Prince when Snape's lineage was still unknown and assumed to be pure-blood, therefore my story will also work under that assumption. Other than that, I have not been completely faithful to the guidelines of the challenge – making changes where it suits me, but that's the fun of writing – I can do whatever I want. :)
Anyway, before you read this you should know a couple things.
First, The timeline for this begins during Hermione's sixth year. The relationship between her and Severus is both that of a husband and wife and a teacher and student. Both parties are of age and consenting. If the teacher/student dynamic bothers you – turn back now.
Second, I write graphic sexual scenes. So, if you are under 18 or easily offended – this story isn't for you. I will also be posting this story on FictionPad in the event that it is removed for violating FFN's terms of service. I may simply not post the more gratuitous lemons here at all, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
And lastly, I don't have a beta, so there will be grammar and punctuation mistakes. Hopefully, they won't distract too much from the story, but don't say you weren't warned. Sometimes when I'm concentrating really hard on the plot or the interaction between the characters I get here & hear or you're & your mixed up. I know the correct usage, I just fuck up every now and again.
In short, writing this story is supposed to be fun for me. Marriage Law challenge fics are some of my all time favorites, and I'm posting this here so that maybe a few other people can enjoy this one, too. I don't have a regular posting schedule, and I'm not trying to write the greatest story ever. Like I said, this is just for fun. So, if you review – be kind.
So, now that that's out of the way – Enjoy!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter One: The Marriage Law
SETTING: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
DATE: Monday September 30, 1996, Hermione's Sixth Year
The Daily Prophet
Pure-blood Marriage Law Enacted
British wizarding society is in an uproar today over the swift and unexpected passage of new pure-blood marriage legislation. The recently enacted statute requires all unwed pure-blood wizards and witches between the ages of seventeen and forty-five to marry Muggle-borns or half-bloods and produce a new generation of magical children forthwith.
Although the law was created in response to the generally declining magical birthrate and the increasing number of miscarriages and squib births associated with pure-blood unions, both pure-bloods and Muggle-borns are equally outraged at the mandates as stated in the first action put forward by the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour.
The discriminatory nature of the statute at the heart of the heated ethical debate has been argued since before the four founders established Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not even the traditionally aristocratic pure-blood families have escaped the law, but that is of little concern to members of the Wizengamont who say that the law is necessary regardless of it's flaws.
"We had to take action if we are to save the future of British wizarding society," declared Minister Srimgeour at his press conference early this morning. "We need new blood infused into our society immediately, or within the next two generations, wizarding England will be no more. We had no choice but to pass the law."
Details on page 22.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked as he patted Hermione's back, concerned.
Hermione nodded as she coughed, almost choking on her toast.
"Yes. Thank you, Harry." She cleared her throat one last time and looked at her friends, all of which were sitting around her having breakfast in the great hall. "Have you read this?" She held out her recently delivered morning edition of the Daily Prophet.
"No," Ron piped in. "We figure if there's anything important in there you'll let us know."
Hermione scowled at him. His flippant attitude about anything other than food and Quiddich was starting to grate on her nerves. "That's just great, Ron. Just like I keep you on track with your studies, right?"
"Well, yeah," he mumbled around a mouthful of eggs, not looking one bit apologetic.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, deciding further comment simply wasn't worth the effort, and turned her attention to Harry. "This says that all witches and wizards between the ages of seventeen and forty-five will be required to marry and have babies … immediately!"
Now, that statement finally garnered everyone's attention. The table was overcome by a shocked silence. Even Ron ceased his shoveling and stared blankly at her.
"What?" Harry asked disbelievingly, grabbing the paper from her and reading for himself. Surely, she was playing some sort of joke on them… She wasn't. The Daily Prophet's headline confirmed her unbelievable statement. "They can't do that, can they? That's like… like…"
"It's like slavery – that's what it is," Hermione provided, snatching the paper back. She turned to page twenty-two and read on aloud, everyone sitting around her listening in. "It says here that unmarried pure-blood witches and wizards have one month to petition the half-blood or Muggle-born of their choice. Any witch or wizard petitioned has one week to accept said petition. If more than one petition is received, the recipient has one week from the date of the last petition received in which to choose and accept one of said petitions. If said witch or wizard fails to accept within the allotted time, their wand will be broken, and they will be banished from all wizarding society." She paused and looked around the table at the disbelieving faces of her friends before she continued. "It also says that a child must be produced within the first year of marriage and another child every following three years, with a minimum four child requirement. Failing to meet this requirement, the chosen half-blood or Muggle-born will submit themselves to St. Mungo's for fertility evaluation and possible legal action with stiff sentences being awarded in Azkaban for anyone trying to circumvent the law." Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable."
"I'm a pure-blood," Neville put in. "Does that mean I have to petition someone as soon as I turn seventeen?"
"Yes, Neville," Hermione explained. "That's exactly what this means. But, at least you and Ron will get to choose who you marry. Harry and I will be only be given the options presented to us. It's blood discrimination on a horrific level. We're to be used for breeding – plain and simple"
"There's more to this than meets the eye," Harry said. "There's no way the pure-blood elite would let this happen. Their blood status means too much to them to sully it by marrying half-bloods and Muggle-borns. It would never have passed in the Wizengamont – not without pure-blood support."
"Harry's right," Ginny agreed. "There's got to be something more going on."
"Well, at least we have a year before it applies to us," Ron said, always the devil's advocate. "Maybe it will be repealed."
"No, Ron." Harry corrected him, exasperated. "Hermione just turned seventeen, remember? The law applies to her."
"Oh, yeah. Forgot." Ron stuffed another mouthful of bacon in his mouth and looked down at his plate, finally appearing sheepish.
Before any further comments could be made on the subject of the new law or Hermione's predicament, a loud screeching bird call pierced the air, drawing every face upward. Suddenly, a large, black, regal-looking eagle flew into the great hall and completed a slow circle overhead, building the anticipation of all present as to who was it's intended recipient. The majestic bird took it's time, gracefully circling downward until finally swooping low over the Gryffindor table – causing several of the younger students to duck their heads, and dropping a letter on the plate in front of Hermione before it screeched loudly one last time and soared back out the window.
Everyone in the Great Hall looked from the empty window to the Gryffindor table and Hermione, wondering what the bookish girl could have received. No other student in recent history had been delivered a letter in such grand style – not even Draco Malfoy. Hermione picked up the envelope and turned it over in her hands. The parchment was of the finest quality milled ivory with elegant green calligraphy addressing her name across the front.
"Who's it from, Hermione?" Ron asked.
"I don't know." She started to break the green wax seal, stamped with the letter M on the seam, when she was interrupted by a hand gripping her shoulder.
"Miss Granger, please follow me," Professor McGonagall requested from behind her.
"But…"
"Now, Miss Granger." She turned and walked away.
Hermione had no choice but to follow her Head of House from the Great Hall as her concerned friends looked on.
Hermione followed her hurried Head of House through the halls and up the stairs of Hogwarts castle. When they stood before the winged gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, Hermione started to become concerned, wondering what she could have done wrong.
"Swedish fish," her professor said crisply, and the circular staircase revolved into view.
Hermione continued to follow quietly behind her professor who had yet to utter a word to her. At the top of the stairs, Professor McGonagall raised her hand to knock, but before her knuckles could touch the heavy wooden door, she heard the Headmaster offer entry. "Come in, Minerva."
Hermione stepped into Professor Dumbledore's office behind her Head of House to find the Headmaster and Professor Snape standing on either side of his desk watching her enter, faces grave.
"Ah, Miss Granger," the Headmaster greeted her, stepping behind his desk. "Please, sit."
Professor McGonagall stepped aside and extended her arm toward the chairs set in front of the Headmaster's desk. Hermione did as she was bid and walked forward, her eyes darting to the Headmaster and each of her instructor's in turn before she lowered herself into one of the proffered chairs, dropping her satchel at her feet and nervously turning the unopened ivory envelope over in her hands.
"May I?" Professor Dumbledore extended his hand toward her envelope.
"Um…" Hermione looked down at her hands, uncertain of how her mail could concern him, but extended the envelope toward him anyway. "Sure."
While he took the envelope from her hand and broke the seal, Hermione noticed that his other hand appeared dark and disfigured, but she didn't dwell on it. Instead, she watched as he removed the enclosed parchment, Professor Snape moving behind him to read her missive over the Headmaster's shoulder as Professor McGonagall came to stand at her flank, awaiting their reaction. Hermione's confusion and anxiety level grew as she watched the Headmaster and Professors Snape exchange knowing, severe looks over her letter until her curiosity couldn't be contained any longer.
"What does it say?" she blurted.
Professor Snape scowled at her outburst, but the Headmaster simply raised his eyebrows tolerantly and extended the parchment back to her. She took it, gently holding open the folded missive and began to read with her Head of House peeking over her shoulder.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Marriage Law Division
Dear Hermione Jean Granger,
On this, the 30th day of September, 1996, a petition was received for your hand in marriage on behalf of Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy. As forth with stated in the Marriage law: Section two; Clause Five, you have seven days, ending at 11:59pm on the 6th day of October, 1996, in which to sign the enclosed betrothal contract before legal action is taken against you.
If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to contact my office.
Sincerely,
Albert Copperpott, Esq.
"I… I don't understand," Hermione looked up from the letter she was holding to the Headmaster and back again. "I mean, why would he want to marry me? He hates me."
"It's because he hates you. You daft girl!" Professor Snape snapped at her.
Hermione flinched, and Professor McGonagall cupped her hands on Hermione's upper arms protectively. "Easy, Severus," she warned. "It's not the girls fault."
Professor Snape scowled again and turned his back, stalking angrily across the room to stare out the window.
"Professor Snape is right, I'm afraid," the Headmaster admitted regretfully. "This petition is, no doubt, of nefarious design."
"But, why?" Hermione asked. "What could he gain from marrying me?"
Professor Snape turned from the window to stare menacingly at the girl as if she were stupid. "What would he gain?" he asked rhetorically. "Only complete financial, physical, and magical control of the 'brightest witch of her age.' All your magical and mental gifts would be at his disposal. Not to mention that you are the best friend of Harry Potter. What a boon that would be for Lucius – presenting you before the Dark Lord!"
"Lucius?" Hermione asked, confused. "I thought this petition was from Draco."
"According to the law, the head of the family may petition on behalf of any of it's members," the Headmaster explained. "And, I have no doubt that Lucius had influence in the drafting of the law to meet his own ends. It's obvious – you are his goal, Miss Granger."
"But, he's in Azkaban isn't he? And, anyway… why would anyone go through all this trouble to get to me?" Hermione simply couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Lucius's role in this started long before he was sent to Azkeban, and just because he's there doesn't mean his influence is not felt outside it's walls," the Headmaster said regretfully.
"As for all this trouble being for you… You insufferable little… You and your cohorts think everything revolves around you, don't you?" Professor Snape approached her, his tone incensed and condescending. "You are a mere bonus for Lucius. He's desperate to regain favor with the Dark Lord and aquiring you is an opportunity Lucius has seen fit to take advantage of. Make no mistake, the law itself is part of the Dark Lord's plan to eliminate all those who oppose him. If he has his way, you and all the other lesser-bloods will be married off to Deatheaters for the sole purpose of birthing a magically superior army. You will be locked away in a dungeon, raped and tortured. The children you bear will be taken from you at birth to be raised at the hands of the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange and taught to serve the Dark Arts, and, when you've served your purpose, you and those like you will all meet a very questionable end."
Tears started to form in Hermione's eyes as she stared up into Professor Snapes own cold, black orbs. The escalation of his rant bringing him across the room to stand menacingly over the girl.
"Severus, really!" Professor McGonagall scolded him. "Must you be so crass? You're frightening her."
"Good! She should be afraid," Professor Snape replied, before he stalked back to the window.
"Although, Severus has stated the facts rather harshly," the Headmaster began, then glanced reprovingly at the dark figure of the DADA professor. "He has spoken the truth. Hermione, you are the brightest student at this school, making you the best genetically magical candidate for extending the Malfoy line. If Lucius can hurt Harry and regain favor with his master by weakening his enemy, then he definitely wants you for his son."
Hermione's mind was racing, looking for any inconsistency that would explain away the impossible nightmare she was currently finding herself in. "But the law says the petitioner must be seventeen," she rationalized. "Draco's a sixth year like me. He should only be sixteen."
"No, Hermione," the Headmaster replied patiently. "Like you, he has recently become of age. Although, your accelerated age for your year is due to a late September birthday, Draco entered Hogwarts late due to illness. Ironically, one could argue his sickly childhood is all the more reason to infuse the Malfoy bloodline with new magical blood."
"What are we going to do, Albus?" Professor McGonagall fretted. "We can't let this happen."
"I don't know, Minerva. My hands are tied by the law," Professor Dumbledore said, frustrated. "Unless we can find another pure-blood to petition for her hand within the next week, she may be lost to us."
The Headmaster's office became silent except for Hermione's discreet sniffles and the soft clicking of Faulkes' beak as the phoenix preened unconcerned on his perch.
"Minerva, why don't you walk Hermione to her next class while Severus and I search for a solution to this little problem," Professor Dumbledore requested as he seated himself heavily behind his desk.
"Of course." Professor McGonagall took the distraught girl by the elbow, encouraging her to stand, and picked up her satchel, hooking it over the girl's shoulder. "Come along, dear."
Hermione went to Transfigurations with Professor McGonagall, arriving to find the class already seated and awaiting the professor's arrival. Under normal circumstances, no one would have been curious about Hermione's late entrance alongside her instructor. After all, she was Hermione Granger – teacher's pet, and it wasn't an unusual occurrence to see her trailing an instructor to either offer assistance or seek out clarification on the finer points of a lesson. But today, with the dramatic delivery of a mystery letter at breakfast followed by her conspicuous removal by Professor McGonagall from the Great Hall, she drew more than a few curious gazes and whispered utterances from her classmates.
Harry and Ron, their interest already peaked, began to become anxious as they watched Hermione enter the classroom. Her worried gaze, instead of meeting theirs, immediately went to that of Draco Malfoy. The moment the weasel returned her gaze, his lips moved, delivering a silent message only she could decipher. Their friend looked scared by whatever he had said to her, and she quickly scurried to her seat at the front of the class next to Neville.
Hermione's two best mates looked at her back and then at each other in bemusement before turning to look at Draco who was seated at the rear of the classroom with the other sixth year Slytherins. The expression on Malfoy's face as he leered at Hermione was one of smug satisfaction. Turning back around, Harry's eyes darkened as he made the connection that Ron couldn't yet see. Whatever was going on with Hermione obviously had something to do with Draco, and he didn't like that idea one bit. Ron noticed the angry look on Harry's face and tilted his head at him imploringly, but the lecture had begun, forcing Harry to wave him off and leave him clueless for the rest of the class period.
During McGonagall's lecture, Harry watched Hermione – her posture was slouched, her eyes never left her book, and not once did she raise her hand to put forth an answer. Something was seriously wrong with her. She had never given Malfoy the satisfaction of seeing her upset at his bullying before. At the end of class, Harry ignored Ron's questions and quickly gathered his book and notes into his satchel, meaning to talk to Hermione and find out what was going on, but she was too fast, disappearing into the throng of students in the hall before he could catch her.
Hermione left Transfigurations as fast as she could. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to avoid any further interaction with Draco. She wasn't thinking about how concerned her friends must have been for her or the explanation they were surely waiting for. The only thing on her mind was getting as far away from Draco as she could get. The way he had looked at her and laid claim to her, mouthing "You're mine, Granger" as she entered the classroom, had made clear the reality of her situation. It was obvious he was aware of what his father was up to, and that he was a willing participant. All the things that Professor Snape had said that morning played repeatedly through her mind. She hadn't wanted to believe it. She always knew Draco was a spoiled prat, but to want to do her serious harm, to want to rape and torture her – could he really do that to someone? Harry believed he could. He also believed Draco had already taken the Dark Mark, and after this mornings events, she was forced to concede that that was a real possibility. If that was the case, then she had to find a way to avoid becoming his wife at all cost.
Not one for being truant, Hermione went to her Advanced Arithmancy and Study of Ancient Runes classes that morning, but she couldn't have said what either lecture was about. All she could think about was how that stupid law was going to ruin everything! She had plans for herself, damn it, and they didn't include the bleak future Professor Snape had described or the one that was promised in Draco's eyes. No, Hermione was determined to find a solution – the thought of falling victim to Voldemort's plan incensing her. By lunchtime, with her appetite non-existent anyway, and the thought of spending her lunch period alternating between answering Harry and Ron's questions and averting her gaze from the Slytherin table being too much to bear, she chose instead to hide in the library among her beloved books – wracking her superior brain for a solution that would save her from the clutches of Lucius and Draco Malfoy.
She read and reread both the Marriage Law as posted in the Daily Prophet and the betrothal contract enclosed with her petition notice. There were no loopholes or exceptions to the stipulations as laid out by the law. If she submitted to marrying Draco as the law demanded, she was basically forfeiting her life. As her husband, Draco would have complete control over her. All her assets, including her body, would be at his disposal. She would be expected to have intercourse with him a minimum of two times in every consecutive seven days until such time as she is confirmed pregnant by an appointed Ministry physician, and coitus and fidelity monitoring spells were to be added to all hand-fasting ceremonies sanctioned by the Ministry. In essence, Professor Snape was correct. She was to become his possession and brood bitch, and would no doubt be horribly mistreated and abused.
How could this be happening to her? How could this be happening to anyone? It was 1996, not 1396. This was worse than mere blood discrimination – it was enslavement. The house elves would have more rights than her under the new law. What was she to do? She had absolutely no legal recourse. Professor Dumbledore was right in thinking her only hope lay in the possibility of a second petitioner – but who? One of the other Weasley men? Perhaps, one of the twins? That thought made her shiver. She didn't think she could handle mischievous behavior on such a grand scale, and wizarding marriages were permanent. The vows of the hand-fasting were cast with ancient magic, woven irrevocably into the fabric of space and time. If she were to accept anyone's petition, they would be bound until death, and who could she ask to make such a sacrifice?
Her lunch break almost spent, Hermione headed to the DADA tower, arriving in a daze a few minutes early for class, and sat three rows back from the front where she always sat between Harry and Ron. Distracted by her thoughts, she barely noticed when someone sat on the stool next to hers – just assuming it was one of her fellow Gryffindors until she felt a hand gently tug on one of her stray curls and a low, threatening voice speak close to her ear.
"You've been promised to me, Granger, and…," startled in place, Hermione kept her head still while letting her eyes slide to the side, watching Draco's face out of the corner of her eye, "…once we're married, I plan to show you just how a Mudblood should be treated." A shiver of dread spread over Hermione's body, starting from where Draco's breath blew across her skin.
"Shove off, Malfoy!" Harry said angrily as he walked up to where Draco was seated in his spot, leaning suspiciously close to Hermione.
Hermione let out a sigh of relief and turned to watch as Draco straightened himself and stood, all the while smirking at Harry like the cat who got the canary. He didn't say a word as he put his satchel over his shoulder and backed away, the wicked smile on his face never faltering as he headed to his usual seat at the rear of the class.
"What was that about, 'Mione?" Harry asked, turning his attention to her when he was satisfied that Draco was a safe distance away.
Hermione hesitated her reply as Ron walked up beside them looking from Hermione to Draco and then back. "Nothing. Just the usual," she replied, trying to deflect Harry's question. Now was not the time to tell him the whole story. "I…I mean, you know Malfoy." She looked away from Harry's disbelieving gaze, turning to the front of the class as if nothing had happened and she simply wanted to be ready for the lesson to begin.
Until their eyes met, she didn't notice Professor Snape standing behind his desk watching their exchange. How long had he been there? What had he seen and heard? Harry and Ron took their places beside her as the rest of the class filtered in, but Hermione was held in the steely gaze of her professor. It was unsettling to have him look at her like that – like he knew what Malfoy was up to, but either didn't care or was unwilling to step in on her behalf. Hermione felt truly alone, even seated between her closest friends in the middle of a crowded classroom she felt utterly isolated. The stress of the mornings events and the realization that no one was going to be able to save her, not even herself, flooded her psyche like a wave of despair washing over her. There in the middle of the classroom, with her eyes held firmly in the black, hateful gaze of her most feared professor, her lip started to tremble and she could feel her control over her emotions start to crumble.
Professor Snape did, in fact, overhear what Draco had said to her and wondered at her stunned expression. What did she think was going to happen now that the boy actually had the tools with which to harass her properly? All that intelligence wasted on the stupid, little chit. She sat in his class day after day, raising her annoying little hand and spewing her regurgitated book knowledge until he was nauseous with it, but when the obvious sat before her, she was as dim as the imbeciles sitting on either side of her. Did it honestly take the better part of the day for her to realize that with the petition for her hand in place, Draco was no longer playing a child's simple game of bullying and intimidation? – Of course, the girl was not privy to all the information Professor Snape had at his disposal. She didn't know that Draco had indeed taken the Dark Mark, and was eager to vindicate his father and prove himself to the Dark Lord even if he had to agree to kill his nemesis – Albus Dumbledore. Regardless, he thought he had made it clear to her that morning what her situation truly was. Why did it take a few threatening words from Draco to make all the pieces finally come together for her? It would seem that even with all her intelligence the girl was nothing more than that – a naive child suddenly realizing that there were real monsters in this world. He could see the innocence slipping from her eyes just as surely as he could see the tears forming in them. If he didn't take action, she would surely burst into tears in the middle of his classroom. He sighed heavily – why must he always have to deal with these sort of emotional outbursts from his students?
"Miss Granger," he drolled tediously, his eyes never leaving hers, "gather your things and follow me." He broke eye contact with her and stepped swiftly from behind his desk, his cape billowing satisfactorily, to wait at the end of her row for her to place her quill and parchment in her satchel.
"Today, Miss Granger," he said impatiently as Hermione paused when Harry gave her a questioning, concerned look. She shook her head subtly at her friend, silently telling him they would talk later, and quickly followed Professor Snape from the classroom.
Once in the hall and away from the prying eyes of her classmates, Professor Snape turned abruptly to face Hermione causing her to bump into his chest before she could stop her momentum. He huffed at her in aggravation and pushed her harshly away. "Miss Granger, can you not even walk without incidence?" he said venomously, and that was all it took to sever Hermione's tenuous hold on her emotions and set her crying in earnest, her sobs echoing down the dungeon corridor. Professor Snape cringed at the sound of the girl's weeping and quickly drew his wand, casting a silencing spell on her. He watched with revulsion as the pitiful girl stood – shoulders slumped, eyes and nose spewing liquids, and mouth open in a thankfully silent wail. Merlin's balls, the things he had to endure! "Get a hold of yourself, girl!" he snapped. "You're only making matters worse."
Hermione tried to stop crying – she really did. She bit back her sobs and swatted her hands over her cheeks, wiping angrily at her tears. He was right – tears were a waste of energy, her always logical mind telling her to focus on fixing her problems, not waste time blubbering. Still, it took a great deal of effort and several minutes before she regained her composure.
Her outburst having subsided until only a few hiccups and trembles remained, Professor Snape handed the girl his handkerchief and removed the silencing charm. "Better now?" he asked, looking down his nose at her patronizingly. She ignored his condescension, nodding and sniffling as she gratefully used his handkerchief to dab at her nose and eyes. "Let me offer you a bit of advice, Miss Granger."
Surprised by his unexpected overture, she looked up at his stern face with wide, red eyes. "Never show your weakness to Draco again." He spoke in a low, forbidding voice, stepping in close to her. "I would have thought you would understand the way things are after what happened in the Ministry last year."
"I… just never really expected Draco to be capable of…" she tried to explain, but couldn't express the confusion inside her. "I know he doesn't like me, but he's like us – a student, not like… them."
"Don't be fooled by his youth," he warned. "The Dark Lord himself was once an innocent looking boy. Draco hasn't gone down that road yet, but he has been…encouraged by his father to explore his darker tendencies, and the Marriage Law changes things. It makes any further disparagement of you socially acceptable in his eyes." Professor Snape inhaled deeply, standing straighter and stepping away, like he had just finished taking care of a dreaded task. "Now, go back to your dormitory and, for Merlin's sake, pull yourself together."
Hermione looked from him down to her hands and neatly folded his handkerchief. "Thank you, sir," she said as she held it out to him. She was not only thanking him for the use of his kerchief, but also for his candid advice. He hadn't offered it with any amount of kindness, but she knew it was well intended, nonetheless.
He scoffed at the soiled cloth. "Keep it," he said, disgusted, and swiftly whirled away from her with his usual flourish, entering his classroom and leaving her alone in the tower corridor.
Later that evening after spending the rest of the afternoon doing as Professor Snape had suggested – pulling herself together, Hermione descended from the girls dormitory into the Gryffindor common room to find the general atmosphere somber. Her eyes surveyed the room, noting several girls comforting a seventh year as she cried in the corner while other small groups of students talked quietly in clusters about the room. Harry and Ron were at their usual table against the wall to the side of the hearth, engrossed in a game of wizard's chess.
"Hey," she said shyly as she approached them.
"Hey," the boys responded in unison, looking up at her and then at each other nervously. Harry stood. "Hermione, are you all right?" he asked anxiously, taking in her bloodshot eyes and pale complexion. She had obviously been crying. "What's going on? Is it about the letter you got?"
"Yeah, Helga Parsons got one, too – at dinner," Ron interjected and glanced over at the girl crying in the corner. "She's been crying all evening."
Hermione realized that if other girls were also receiving petitions, then her friends must now at least know what the letter pertained to – everyone must. She was hesitant to confide in them. She didn't want to tell them about Draco. She had spent the afternoon sequestered in her room, analyzing all the implications of her situation. She knew tensions were already running high between the three boys since spying on Draco during his foray into Borgin and Burkes, and then with what happened on the train when Draco stunned Harry and broke his nose. She also knew their first reaction would be anger, but she didn't want them fighting. Harry had begun meeting privately with Dumbledore and should have been concentrating on preparing for his eventual confrontation with He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, not worrying about her or defending her honor. For the first time that afternoon, she felt like because she was a girl and vulnerable under the Marriage Law, she was a burden to them. It was a new and very distressing sensation. She had never in her life been the damsel in distress. She had always felt like she was the brains of their team, an invaluable asset – not a liability. Until now. She had spent her day doing what came naturally to her – thinking and trying to solve an unsolvable problem. Brilliant Hermione could always find the answer, couldn't she? She reasoned that there simply must be a way out of this predicament, but it had been futile. Never before had she felt so helpless.
Harry cut to the chase. "Tell us, Hermione. Who petitioned you?"
Hermione looked around, checking for prying ears, before heading for a small group of empty chairs located more discreetly in the farthest corner of the room. Harry and Ron followed her, sitting themselves closely on either side of her as she cast a privacy spell around them. The boys waited patiently as Hermione gathered her courage and filled them in on the circumstances surrounding her petition. "You're right. The letter was a marriage petition. McGonagall took me to the headmaster's office to open it. I… I don't know what I'm going to do," she said despairingly and started to cry again. Harry inched closer and began rubbing her back soothingly while Ron, not knowing how to be of comfort, waited with his elbows on his knees and his fingers tented worriedly at his mouth. When her crying slowed once more, she continued. "Professor Snape said that the marriage law was He-Who-Would-Not-Be-Named's plan to create a superior race of wizards and witches under his leadership – like Hitler tried to create an Aryan race – and that the Muggle-borns and half-bloods would be used as breeders and then eventually be … disposed of – just like the Jews."
"Blimey," Ron said, exchanging a shocked look with Harry. "Don't worry, 'Mione. We won't let anything happen to you."
"That's right, Hermione." Harry agreed, taking her hand. "We'll protect you."
"You don't understand. There's nothing you can do," she told them hopelessly. "I spent the day studying the law. There are no loopholes. Professor Snape said that Lucius Malfoy had a hand in writing the law so that I couldn't get away – no one can get away."
"What do you mean Lucius didn't want you to get away?" Harry asked, suspiciously curious. "He's in Azkaban. What's he got to do with this?"
Hermione, realizing she couldn't keep her petitioner's identity from them forever, closed her eyes and let the answer rush from her lips. "I mean that the law was drafted and it's passing set in motion by Minister Fudge and Lucius Malfoy before the events at the Ministry, and now, with no opposition from Minister Scrimgeour forthcoming, even from Azkaban, Lucius is free to petition for my hand on behalf of his son." When she opened her eyes a moment later, both boys wore identically shocked expressions – mouths and eyes agape. "It's Draco – my petitioner," she clarified. "Lucius wants me for Draco."
Hermione had barely gotten Draco's name out before Ron had jumped up and started heading toward the portrait hole, fists clinched at his sides. "I'll kill him. I'll kill the weaselly git!"
"No. No, Ron," Hermione said as she gave pursuit, leaving Harry still in his chair, too stunned to realize what was going on. "Please." She took hold of his forearm, but he shook her off then whirled to face her.
"Why should I? You don't mean to protect that piece of dragon dung, do you?" His anger was getting the better of him, and he lashed out at her.
Hermione took a step back from him. His stance was pure rage, and it frightened her. "I just don't want you to get in trouble," she replied, frustrated. How did she always end up having to look out for them – for him? And, why was everything with Ron either hot or cold? He never gave her a second glance before, but now he was racing off to fight for her honor. She suspected he had just been waiting for a reason to confront Draco, and her situation had suddenly become the perfect excuse. As usual, he couldn't ever think of anyone but himself. Why couldn't he, just this once, think of her feelings?
She was angry and scared, and coming to realize that unless a miracle presented itself, she was doomed. All her dreams for the future were going to be ripped away from her at the hands of Draco Malfoy and his evil progenitor. She had been an only child – a lonely child – until coming to Hogwarts, her intellect and oddities alienating her in her early years from other Muggle children. Upon coming to Hogwarts, she found others like herself and made her first true friends. She felt like she belonged, and like she had a future of her own choosing – filled with possibility. She dreamed of marrying for love and having a large family, of never being lonely again. And, even though she wasn't ready to admit it, she secretly hoped that Ron would someday make those dreams come true… But, as usual, he was behaving like a selfish prat, and she simply didn't have the emotional strength left to deal with him anymore.
"Never-mind, do whatever you want!" she said, her voice escalating in volume beyond the limits of her privacy spell until it became a screech. "I don't care!" She turned and ran for the stairs leading to the girls dormitory, her sobs echoing down into the silent common room and to the clueless boy left in it's center to wonder what had just happened.