Chapter Seventeen
Hermione awoke the next morning hoping to feel better about the situation, but found that worries still plagued her.
"What exactly happened last night?" she asked Severus as he dressed. He glared at her in response; he hated talking in the morning and he especially hated answering her many questions. But she knew that she would never get any work done today if she didn't know what had happened. She needed to hear that everything was going to be okay.
"You might as well tell me now. You know I won't rest until I get an answer," she said as she pulled on her own robes. He glared at her for a couple moments more before finally giving in.
"As I said last night, everything went according to plan," he said with a scowl. "Malfoy and Pettigrew are currently enjoying the hospitality of the aurors at Azkaban and I will return to the Dark Lord when he calls me."
"But how can you be sure that You-Know-Who doesn't suspect you?" she asked. She understood the value of the information that he provided but it wasn't worth his life in her opinion.
"Oh, he suspects me. But with no direct evidence he won't do anything because I'm the only one who can give him what he wants," he explained.
"Which is?"
"Potter."
"But…surely not….," she stammered.
"Not until he is ready—which should be soon. When the time comes I will tell the Dark Lord how to get past our defenses and I will inform the Order what they can expect from the Death Eaters."
"The consummate spy," she remarked.
"Exactly," he said before leaving in a billow of black robes.
Over the next few weeks it seemed he was right. Things had calmed down and Severus had not been summoned again.
"It's merely the calm before the storm," he told her one night. But it didn't stop Hermione from worrying. Her stomach turned to knots whenever she thought about it and she was grateful for the distraction that her apprenticeship and Order work gave her. She had lost Ron; she couldn't bear the thought of losing Severus as well and so she tried not to dwell on it.
Nevertheless, Hermione felt a sense of relief as the end of the term neared. She had been so busy that she had been neglecting food, sleep, and her husband. They rarely saw each other but for a few moments in the morning and as they prepared for bed. More than once she longed for the day when things would return to normal and she wondered if she would enjoy being married when the backdrop of this war was removed. It was with these thoughts in her head that she drifted off to sleep one night only to be awoken in the middle of the night to Severus shaking her.
"Hmm, what is it?" she asked half-asleep.
"Why did you marry me?" he asked, "why not one of the Weasleys or someone else off that bloody long list of yours? Why me?"
"Its 4:00 in the morning," she protested sleepily.
"I want to know why you chose me?" he insisted.
"You woke me up from a perfectly good sleep, something that's rare for me these days, so I could stroke your ego?"
"Fine, never mind," he said indignantly, turning over and plumping his pillow. She watched him for a few moments, deciding whether or not to go back to sleep or to answer his question. In the end she decided to answer the question.
"No, wait," she said, sitting up and placing her hand on his shoulder, "there were lots of reasons."
"Such as?" He turned back towards her
"Well…strategically it was a smart move for both of us. You could improve your standing with You Know Who and possibly provide the Order with more information while protecting me from the Malfoys, Crabbes, and Notts that were on that list. Logistically, it was better for me to be here at Hogwarts since Professor McGonagall offered me an apprenticeship. And finally, I respected and trusted you. I still do, even more now."
"Alright then," he said yawning and closing his eyes.
"Is that it? That's all?" she asked, still a little irritated to have been woken up.
"Yes, now leave me alone, its 4:00 in the bloody morning."
She stared at him in disbelief as he turned over and went back to sleep. She lay back down annoyed and in wonder at his sheer audacity and nerve. She awoke the next morning still wondering about his strange behavior the night before and her curiosity finally got the better of her.
"So why did you say yes?" she asked him during dinner the next day.
"What?"
"Why did you say yes? Why did you marry me?" she repeated.
"I don't want to discuss this here," he said quietly but sharply.
"Well, I didn't really feel like answering your question at 4:00 this morning but I did because I am a loving and caring wife."
"Are you implying that I'm not?" he asked pointedly.
"A loving and caring wife? No, you're my irritable, tetchy, though sometimes affectionate husband who woke me up in the middle of the night last night because he had a burning question to be answered but now refuses to answer mine, despite the reasonable hour."
"I would hardly call dinner time, where anyone can overhear us a reasonable hour," he protested.
"Well, its better than 4:00," she retorted.
"Not now," he whispered sharply.
"I would be careful if I were you, Hermione," Dumbledore commented from his space at the center of the table, "Severus has a mischievous look about him today."
She suppressed a smile while Severus glared at the old man. He turned to scowl at her as if to imply that the headmaster had made his point for him. She decided to wait until they were back in their rooms and Severus was settled in for the night in front of the fire before she tried again.
"Now?" she asked, leaning over the back of the couch and encircling him with her arms.
"Now what?" he asked grumpily, but he didn't shake loose from her embrace so she continued.
"Now will you answer my question?"
"Which was…?" he stalled. He knew perfectly well which question she meant, but he liked to annoy her. Hermione refused to be baited.
"I hope the couch is comfortable," she threatened, "because you're going to be spending a lot more time on it in the near future." She started to walk away but he grabbed her arm.
"Oh, that question," he said as she walked around and sat on the arm of the sofa.
"Yes, that question."
"The answer to that question is easy, the same as yours really," he said nonchalantly.
"That's it!" she exclaimed, "You couldn't say that in the Great Hall. You were afraid that someone might overhear you saying 'ditto Hermione'."
He shrugged his shoulders, "I value my privacy."
"So you're saying that you married me because strategically it was the right move and because you respected and trusted me?" she asked.
"That, and what middle-aged, mean, and ugly man doesn't want a young trophy wife," he added sarcastically, pulling her from the arm of the couch down into his lap.
"Is that what I am to you? A trophy?"
"You certainly brighten a room," he said, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her neck. She smiled widely at the compliment, a rare thing coming from him. Her irritation began to melt away, replaced with affection.
"Although a trophy might be nicer. It would be quiet so that I can get my marking done," he said.
She stopped smiling. He could never just say something nice; he always had to ruin it with his sarcasm. But it was no less than she expected and in the end she decided he wouldn't be Severus without it. Said in a certain tone, it was his idea of affectionate banter. But what she wanted to hear him say was that he loved her, that he needed and wanted her with him. Looking at his smirking face, however, she knew that those words would be a long time coming.
"If that's what you'd rather be doing," she replied before leaning in to kiss him.
"I'm open to other suggestions," he said dryly a few moments later.
"No," she said, scooting out of his lap and down to the other end of the couch, "You have exams to mark and I have reading to catch up on. I'd hate to distract you more than I already have." She smiled slyly at him before taking up her book. She really did have quite a bit of reading for Minerva that she had been neglecting the last several days.
"Later perhaps."
"Perhaps," she said noncommittally. They sat on the couch each working on their own things for the rest of the evening, him on the end and she sprawled out with her feet near his lap. He had tried discreetly to tickle her feet with his quill a few times until she had kicked him, at which point he had made another comment about her being a nuisance.
"I think I deserve a trophy for having to put up with you," he told her wryly.
"I'll write to the Minster of Magic straight away and ask him to work on it," she countered.
"Be sure to tell him to make it a big one."
She chuckled and smiled before turning her attention back to her book. But she found herself unable to concentrate on her reading. His question the night before had made her think. Why had she married him? Mainly because the ministry had forced her hand but whatever the reason, she had hardly expected this—it was almost domestic bliss sitting here on the couch after a long day, flirting with her husband.
She looked up quickly when he gasped and grabbed for his arm. Dropping her book to the side, she tried to remain calm.
"Don't wait up," he told her before going to grab his cloak. He always told her that but she never listened. She would be waiting when he returned.