She was his.

Hermione Granger was now the wife of Professor Severus Snape. He retook his place before her after fastening the necklace and took one of her hands in his, as the marriage ceremony dictated. A cool numbness had spread over her body, she barely noticed as he leaned down to give her a soft kiss on the lips.

The ceremony was over, and many of the couples were leaving.

Severus placed a hand on the small of her back and gently guided her outside. Hermione looked like she needed the air, and while he fully understood her feelings, he remained silent.

She watched as the other couples hugged and kissed happily outside of the domed temple. Several of them used portkeys or apparated away. She longed for the comfort of her parents, but muggles were not permitted near the temple. She wanted to see Harry and Ron, but they were gone too.

Severus stood by, quietly watching her watch everyone else. He knew she wanted to be home or with her friends, anywhere other than here with him, but he said nothing. He looked at Hermione in her dark wedding dress, the tiny white flowers laced through her hair, her face caked with makeup.

She looked beautiful, but for her sadness.

Her eyes were shining with tears, but she didn't start crying-it was as if Hermione had sighed with her whole body as she watched her classmates run off happily with their new mates. She was defeated.

Severus felt for her, but what could he do? He was just as helpless as she.

"Hermione," he grazed her exposed arm with his fingertips, "are you ready to leave?"

She looked down at where he was touching her, and he withdrew his hand.

"Yes, Severus, I am."

Severus took her hand in his and they disappeared.

In an instant, they were back inside Hogwarts. Inside the potions classroom, to be exact. Hermione let go of Severus's hand and took a step back from him. He pretended not to notice.

"Dumbledore has issued notice that the student body take a week to…recover from the festivities. Now that we're married, you can use that time to settle into my private quarters." He said, still holding the crimson sash from the ceremony. "Would you like to see them now?"

"Yes, I would." She replied hollowly. It was late, Hogwarts was empty, and they were alone. Snape was now offering to show her into his flat…where his bed was. She nearly had a panic attack during the wedding ceremony, but after it was done and she was bound to him-she had given up all resistance.

They were married now, and nothing either of them could do would change that. She was his wife, and it seemed that Snape now wanted her to perform her "wifely duties". Well. Why bother to fight it? Why bother to fight him?

He led the way to his private office, walking up to a bookshelf. "When you need to come back here, pull on 'The Great Gatsby'," he explained, pulling on the book himself, "and the door will open."

Snape pulled the book and the entire bookshelf twisted, revealing a spiral staircase. "It's down here." He said, motioning for her to follow him. Hermione felt as if she were sleep-walking, her eyes were vacant and her body was seemingly dragging itself to follow him.

Snape took a torch from the wall and led the way down a flight of steps, which led to a heavy wooden door not unlike the one from his classroom in the dungeons. "It has a password, it's 'serpent'." He informed her curtly.

"Ser-"

"Serpent." Hermione said to the door, just as he was about to. She didn't feel like saying anything, but thought she should get into the habit of using the password.

The door swung open without a sound, and they stepped inside.

Hermione was surprised that it was so large-she thought a man like Severus would want to live in a dark, Spartan basement. His flat was anything but dank and bare. It had relatively high ceilings and there was more open space than she expected to find, as if he possessed too little furniture to fill the area.

A fireplace was flanked by two wingchairs, a sofa was in the center of the room, bookshelves lined the far wall, and a few personal photographs were lining the other walls.

"Goodness, it's lovely Severus." Hermione said, surprising herself.

"Oh, erm…thank you Hermione." He said quietly from behind her. He had hoped that she'd like it, his worst fear being that she's wanted to redecorate in shades of pink and purple. "Would you like a tour?"

Hermione forced a smile. "Yes please."

Severus hung up his jacket and walked further into the room. "This is the living area, I've had quite a few new books brought in for you. Novels, fiction, biographies, what have you." He said, gesturing at the bookshelves.

Hermione was secretly touched that he'd thought of her.

Snape continued giving her the tour, leading her into a hallway. "The kitchen-which I barely use-is in here," he opened a door to show her a kitchen that resembled a library. Books and papers were strewn on the table and counters. "The bathroom is in there," he pointed to a door on the left. "And in here is the bedroom."

Hermione's stomach suddenly felt like lead, much as it had at the ceremony. This time, however, rather than fight, she relented. 'It had to happen someday, it might as well be today.' She thought with a great sense of resignationNo point in trying to fight now, why would she resist her own husband on the wedding night?

Snape opened the door and allowed her to walk in first. He followed her in and shut the door behind himself. The sound seemed to echo for hours. Severus's bedroom was very large and very…romantic?

Hermione's brow furrowed as she looked at his large canopy bed-it had several pillows arranged near the headboard, a forest green comforter that rested over black sheets. On his dresser there were several thick white candles, the wicks burnt down to the middle.

A few portraits on the wall were chattering quietly to each other, all of them subtly glancing in her and Severus's direction. Hermione blushed-she hadn't intended to do this in front of an audience!

"Severus, this room is unbelievable." She said truthfully.

"I'm glad you like it." He murmured from a corner.

Hermione tried to prepare herself mentally for what she was about to endure, and her mind raced to review the things she had read and heard from more experienced sources about this situation.

'Men love a confident woman!,' gushed a Muggle magazine she had once read while on holiday, 'let him KNOW you're interested, leave nothing to the imagination.'

Hermione mentally told the magazine in her brain to stuff it-she felt neither confident nor interested.

Quieting the magazine's voice, she tried to remember a thing or two she had overheard in the girls' bathroom. "I heard that Oliver Wood once had a go with Mary Cedar on the Quidditch field."

That wasn't helping.

Angrily, Hermione shut out the advice and gossip that was flitting through her mind and took a deep breath. She knew what was going to happen between them; she wasn't raised in a convent, after all! She spent ten months out of the year with other teenagers just as curious and hormonal as she.

Severus was somewhere behind her, but she refused to look back at him for fear of seeing that horrible smirk of his. The one that could be so cruel and mocking. The one that said he already knew. He already knew.

Hermione didn't know what to do.

Well.

She knew what to do; she just didn't know how to go about doing it. Perhaps simple instinct would take over? She gave an inward shrug and climbed onto his bed, taking a spare moment to revel in the softness of the sheets-which she was pleased to find were satin. She sat there on the covers, her legs exposed up to the tops of her thighs, and she waited.

She faced him, trying to gauge his reaction.

Her heart was pounding, blood thundered in her ears as she waited for him to advance on her. She bent her head and some of her hair fell into her eyes.

The room was dimly lit, she could see Severus standing near the doorway, but couldn't make out his expression. Was he interested? Amused?

Was he smirking or scowling?

For a moment, she wondered if maybe she'd done something wrong-in the Muggle world her actions may have seemed a bit hasty for a virgin (hasty, yes, though in a wantonly attractive way), but how were her actions interpreted by this wizard?

"Severus?"

"I'm glad you find the bed comfortable. You can sleep in here; when I do sleep it's rarely in the bed. We can move your things in tomorrow." With a slight bow, Severus pulled the door closed behind him.

Hermione didn't know what to make of his reaction, but let out a huge sigh of relief. He left her in his bedroom and she didn't know where he had gone. Not that she cared; she didn't want to be near him anyway-especially not that near.

She shrugged and got off his bed, intent on doing a small exploration of his room while he was gone. His bureau held several black robes, black jackets and a few pairs of black boots. Hermione rolled her eyes-he was a teacher, but he was allowed to wear other colors, Hell even McGonagall had robes of blue and purple!

Severus did have some lovely cloaks though. Hermione ran her hand down silk and fur lined winter cloaks with Celtic knot clasps made of silver-they were all black of course, but still fine garments.

She turned away from his clothes and went to the desk on the far side of the room. The surface was peppered with trinkets, potion ingredients and more photographs. The people in the pictures were asleep, so Hermione didn't disturb them. She pulled open a drawer and looked inside. Lying on top of parchments and folders was an open book.

Hermione's eyes widened when she saw that the book was actually a journal-Snape's personal journal!

Her heart started pounding at the thought of what she was about to do. Gryffindor were meant to be brave, but anyone would have been scared senseless if they were caught going through Snape's personal things.

He could come back at any time.

Maybe if you just read a few lines

If you get caught, he'll kill you.

But if you're not caught…

The two voices shot back and forth in her head, the sneakier one winning out. Hermione put the journal on the surface of the desk and used her wand to light the pages. The journal was marked in the center; nearly every page had been filled with Snape's clean writing but some of the pages were occupied by drawings-some of animals, some of the other staff and students.

Hermione looked back at the door to make sure he hadn't slipped in and checked the date of a page she had turned to. This entry was what he had written on the night their pairing was announced by Fudge:

'The Ministry is insane. I have said as much on several occasions, but never before have I had such utter and complete confidence in my own opinion as I do tonight. There had been rumors going around for months about the possible marriage laws, and I hadn't paid it much attention-until I learned the truth from the few remaining Death Eaters. Several former Death Eaters are also Ministry officials and they intended to tamper with the list. I took this information to Dumbledore and what remains of the Order, where we decided that I should tamper with the list as well.

'There wasn't enough time to match everyone up individually, and because of that, I was chosen to marry Hermione Granger! Unbelievable! Unspeakable! Unacceptable! I attacked Fudge and damn near killed him once he said the binding couldn't be broken. Dumbledore-as usual-was no real help, only telling us to go to sleep to calm down. Calm down, I'd like to see him be calm after being told he had to marry a child! Worse, she is a former student of mine and longtime friend of Potter-worse still, she saw my violent behavior towards Fudge and now I'm sure she's terrified. I do not wish to marry her or anyone else, this law is ridiculous and I would refuse it-but I cannot let the Death Eaters catch on to my secret "double-agent" status. If they were to learn of it, I'd be killed and so would Hermione-I can't let that happen, it's been my duty to save their lives, not end them. Dumbledore told us to sleep on it and then meet tomorrow-I'll sleep, but not until I've had a drink, or several!'

Hermione put down the journal-what Snape had told her about the list was true, and he'd married her to protect her from the Death Eaters. She skipped a few more pages and started reading again, this page dated only a few days ago:

'Hermione has grown up so much since I saw her last-the middle of her fifth year after that dunderhead Longbottom spilt his potion on her. The result of that little incident had been her altogether removal from my classes-pity, as she did show great promise, despite being a know it all. Before a few weeks ago I hadn't bothered to notice her since. Now she is 18-according to the Ministry-and we are expected to marry. The thought of marriage was once appealing to me, as was the idea of children; but that was worlds ago, when I was still an innocent. After the first, marriage lost its appeal, and I joined the Death Eaters. One could hardly have a family while teamed with them, so I never married. Now the whole situation has been thrown at me, the prospective wife being no more than a child herself. She's young enough to be my own daughter and an insufferable Gryffindor. Despite my helplessness, even I have to admit that things could be worse. She is quite smart; perhaps I will finally have someone intellectually stimulating enough to converse with regularly. More than just bring witty, she already knows of my past. She knows that I will not hurt her, and I'll allow her to continue her education. I intend to have her move into my quarters, where she can live her life, and I will live mine, save for this one tie that binds us.'

Hermione heard a door creak open somewhere in Snape's flat. She put the journal back into the desk drawer and ran back to the bed. She climbed under the covers and pretended to be asleep. The bedroom door opened slowly, and Snape poked his head into the large room.

Hermione watched him through half-closed eyes. Snape looked at what he thought was his sleeping wife-he watched as her chest rose and fell with every breath. She thought she could see him smirk but couldn't be sure. He went to the bureau and took down a blanket before padding out of the room.

OXOXOXOXOXO

The next morning, Hermione spent in her old Gryffindor dormitory with Ginny.

"It's been fun," Hermione said as she stowed way her clothes in a trunk.

"It won't be the same without you, Hermione. The scratching of your quill, the rustling of your pages. Who will we run to for help with our homework when you leave us?" asked Ginny, only half-joking.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The text-books, for once. I'll still be around, you know. Hardly anything will change, except where I sleep."

"With Snape." Ginny said with a hard shudder.

"No, definitely not with Snape." She said crisply.

"You mean you and he didn't-?"

"No, though he did show me to his bedroom." Hermione replied, hating the details that Ginny demanded of her.

"His bedroom? Then what?"

"Well, that's it, really. I mean for a moment I thought he wanted that. I got onto the bed but he didn't move from the doorway. He left me by myself."

"I'd consider myself lucky."

"I do consider myself lucky. Now can we please get back to finding my Gryffindor scarf?"