First, Major kudos to our wonderful Beta, Iseult. Without her, this story would not be possible. Thank you Iseult!
We only own Charity, Joyce and Nathan. Everything else is borrowed.
Please Review! Thanks!
Ereb Ithil
P.S. Ereb Ithil and Wenya Verne are Elvish, not Latin .
Wenya Verne
(New Wife)
Discovering
Contrary to popular opinion Hermione Granger was not a morning person. She awoke to the annoying ring of her alarm clock. Some random sailor thing, a cartoon she had watched as a child. She rolled over to see a large ball of ginger fur purring quietly on the other side of her head. It stretched out its legs and jumped off of the bed, into the hall scratching the door open as he went. She rolled out of bed and tried to remove the ache in her muscles from sleeping in the same position all night. The smell of bacon, eggs and pancakes pulled her from her bedroom, grabbing her green silk robe as she went. She trudged down the stairs through the family room and into the kitchen. Her mother, Joyce, stood at the stove flipping pancakes while her father, Nathan, sat at the kitchen table with the local morning paper in front of him. Hermione sat down and immediately reached for the coffee.
"Here you are dear," said Mrs. Granger.
"Thanks Mum."
"We are going to church in about an hour would you like to go."
"Not today mum seeing as I am Head Girl. I have to be at school a week early."
As soon as she grabbed her first piece of bacon and began to nibble on it an owl entered through the small window above the kitchen sink and flew out as fast as it had come.
Picking up the Daily Prophet she had just paid for, she scanned the front page skimming over articles about the newest line of Nimbus Broomsticks, an expose of IDs sold by Wizards that when presented to anyone shone bright red with the word VOID written along the center, and a small village just outside London that had been attacked by rogue Death Eaters. She sighed mournfully for the muggles and sent a silent prayer to them, hoping that everything was all right. A small footnote at the bottom of the front page caught her eye "Marriage law passed full details on page 16a."
The ministry has recently passed a decree called marital decree number forty-five. This new decree requires that all muggle-born witches that come of age from henceforth must marry a pureblood wizard within 3 months of their first suitor.
What was left of the coffee in her mouth flew on to the paper.
"What!" She yelled, jumping up from the table knocking over the glass of orange juice she had just poured.
"This is LUDICROUS!" she spat.
"What is dear?" Joyce asked as she removed the paper from her daughter's hands. Hermione watched as her mother's eyes quickly scanned the newspaper for the source of what had upset her daughter so much.
"What's a Pureblood?" Joyce turned to her daughter.
"It's a witch or wizard who has a witch and wizard for parents, stretching back for generations, mum," replied Hermione.
"That's a silly law," she mused, handing the newspaper with its moving pictures back to her daughter before turning back to the sink to finish rinsing the fruit.
Just then, another owl flew in through the kitchen sink window, and dropped a large scroll onto Hermione's lap. Hermione glanced at the seal and out of the corner of her eye watched as the bird perched it self upon the head of her father Nathan Granger who had been quietly reading his paper up until this point.
"Funny little bird this one," he said as he turned the page on his newspaper.
Hermione rolled her eyes and unrolled the scroll. She began to read,
The following is a list of the muggle-born witches that are coming of age in the next week.
Katie McAmis
Sarah Darnell
Mariah Daley
Please Sign Here
Margaux Phillippi
Amy Phillippi
Amanda Anderson
Claire Regal
Holly Harmon
"Oy vey, they want to keep track of me", she muttered, "Oh well"
She signed the bottom in an untidy handwriting very different from her school writing with the quill that fell from the parchment. She carefully rolled the parchment back up and tied it carefully around the leg of the owl, watching as it glided silently out of the window.
"I wonder who all of the Pureblood wizards gunning for me are?" she laughed at the thought of Draco standing in front of a line of pureblood wizards her age.
Severus Snape slept peacefully, the first time in months, in his large, black four-poster canopy bed. The green drapes were pulled tightly shut, not letting even a hint of the morning sun's rays into the enclosed area. A pale, slightly opalescent figure glided through the northern wall, passing through a large wardrobe as she went. She had long, pale hair and an elaborate dress which, had she been alive, would have swished as she moved towards the bed. She smiled at his sleeping form, attempting to move a lock of hair from his face, only to find that her hand passed through it. Her smile faded slightly before she drifted through the canopy's top and allowed her face to appear through the black silk.
"Good mornin', good mornin'! It's great to stay up late, Good mornin', good mornin' to you." She began to sing, extremely off key.
He winced and threw a neighboring pillow toward the grotesque sound. It hit under her chin and landed on his chest.
"Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me."
"Would if I could, my dear," he growled rolling over, facing the drapes.
She flicked her hand at the drapes, and they flew open, letting the bright morning sun stream into the room through the large balcony window
"Now, is that anyway to speak to your wife?"
"My dead wife?" he grumbled, rolling over, his back to the window.
"Oh sure, throw that in my face."
She stared at him a moment before sighing, another smile creeping across her lips.
"Henry the 8th I am, I am, Henry the 8th I am, I got married to the widow next door, she's been married seven tim..."
"ALL RIGHT, I'M UP!" he roared, pushing back the back covers and pulling himself from bed.
He sighed and dragged himself towards the bathroom. After a quick shower, he emerged, a black towel wrapped around his waist. He walked over to the wardrobe and as he opened the doors, he said to Charity.
"You know, you might be good at singing Tenor,"
"Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling, as much as they could.
"Yes, Ten or Twelve miles away,"
"Bloody, greasy bastard," she screamed and streamed out of the room.
He smirked and pulled on a pair of black pants and a black muscle shirt, his pale skin accented by the deep colors. He walked downstairs following the ghostly form of his dead wife to the dining room table where the house elves had already prepared Severus' favorite breakfast with his essential morning cup of coffee. Charity floated above the other end of the table with her legs crossed, her skirts draped around her, humming a Mantra that Severus couldn't quite place.
"What are you doing?" Severus asked.
"Trying to get rid of your negative energy," Charity replied opening one eye. "It might just make it livable here."
"Wasn't the vow only till death do us part?" he mused "So why are you still here?"
"Because someone has to keep you in line," she retorted.
Just then a large black owl flew along the elegantly decorated ceiling and dropped the Daily Prophet onto Severus' lap. He began to read the front page. A footnote at the bottom got his attention. "Marriage law passed full details on page 16a."
"Bloody Hell! Fudge has gone off his rocker this time," Severus stated.
"What now?" asked Charity.
"Fudge passed that bloody marriage law that makes it so that all Mud- Muggle-born witches are required at their coming of age to be married to a pure-blood wizard," he said.
Just then a ministry owl arrives with two scrolls he opened the first and the list of eligible witches barely held his attention.
The second scroll however caused coffee to spew about the room. He slammed it down pushed his chair back and in doing so caused it to knock over. He stormed upstairs muttering about some old fool.
Charity glided towards the scroll and read
"Severus,
Stop brooding over your dead wife. I have signed you up for a Muggle-born witch. I expect you to produce an heir for the family. She will be receiving your offer within the week.
Your Father,
Simeone."
"Oh my," Charity said.
She rushed upstairs to attempt to control Severus' temper.