Please Note: I do not own the HP books, nor any of the characters except those I might choose to add. This is a humor fic, which means I may write things that make no sense and do not go along with the original plot (unless J.K decides Hermione and Snape should be together..among other things.)...And my muse is a jester.
Also- I've read so many fics, some of the things I use might be from them. If you find this happening I'm sorry.
This- vnvnvnvnvnvnvnvn-means the next scene, or a skip in the story. For some reason my computer won't let me do anything else. Rawr. It sucks big.
Summary:
Mr. and Mrs. Granger decide to get to know the wizarding world a little bit more. They hire a 'Muggle Consultant', finding themselves drawn into things a little more than they expected.
Let's pretend nothing having to do with Voldemort (he's hibernating..perhaps) happens in year six. Just for a few seconds. Now imagine...
Start Story: Chapter Two.
"AND YOU'LL BE ABLE TO SEE THE FAMOUS FARM WHERE THIS FASCINATING WOMAN FOUND A CURE FOR THE COWS!"
A large family sized broomstick circled a humble farm twice. There seemed to be three people riding it. One man was grinning and waving his hands about while yelling back to his passengers what they were looking at.
The second man and his wife were holding onto the broomstick for dear life.
"ISN'T THERE ANYWAY WE CAN DO THIS THAT'S MORE SAFE!" The second man- Mr. Granger- yelled.
The other man, their Muggle Consultant, yelled back at him-
"IF YOU THAT'S WHAT YOU WISH!"
Mr. Granger sighed in relief. Maybe this time they would be able to sit comfortably in a nice car, as close to the ground as possible.
And suddenly, he was falling. Falling, falling and falling. The impact of the air as he flipped around knocked his glasses off. He tried to yell, but the air rushed into his lungs and made him choke.
He saw something coming towards him, something with browns and reds and yellows. He closed his eyes, knowing he could do nothing.
Thud
Thud
Thud
"Jolly good!"
He heard the voice. The voice that was starting to annoy him.
Carefully, Mr. Granger moved his hand. He gingerly rubbed it along the things he had fallen on. It felt like...
carpet!
His eyes snapped open. It was!
"Oh dear," He heard his wife laugh, relief clear in her voice. "A flying Carpet!"
He turned to look at her, was she insane?
We almost die, and she's laughing because it's a flying carpet!
She turned to the consultant, grinning.
"You almost had us fooled Mr. Snape!"
vnvnvnvnvnvnv Dun dun dunnnn...as the plot thickens we turn to our beloved Hogwarts.
Hermione glared at the long scroll of paper. It wasn't right. Not only did the essay she wrote on the effects of Nute's Brainseem to be missing something and she couldn't place her finger on it -but-she hadn't stopped thinking about that dream.
What did it mean?
Did she secretly desire Longbottom? Or was it a sign that she would never flourish in a relationship with that kind of man?
Did it even have a meaning?
She sighed.
She looked at the neat stack of papers. On top of the pile lay her Class Schedule. She pulled it over, wearily looking it over.
First thing was Herbology Class 6.
Potions was next.
Defense Against Dark Arts.
Then Charms.
Transfiguration.
She noted all five had been extended to an hour and a half, instead of the usual hour. She felt a surge of excitement. Longer lessons meant more questions, more answers, more knowledge gained, and more...everything.
She put the schedule back, turning to her current dilemma. Her Nute's Brain essay. She could not, for the life of her, figure out why it seemed so wrong.
Growling she flicked her wand over the page, the words disappeared one by one.
She picked up her quill and started again.
vnvnvnvnvnvnv Snape's p.o.v
He paced his office. There was something...off.
His father had not spoken to him, nor answered any of his letters. Granted- the letters were of the pleading type, and his father hated pleading.
He huffed.
POP!
He turned to his desk. A neatly rolled up parchment lay innocently upon his desk. The first he had asigned his Class Six.
Granger.
Mumbling a curse, he strode towards the desk. Glaring at the paper as if it had just told him to sod off. He angrily ripped it off the table and resentfully unrolled it.
His eyes scanned the page.
Perfec- no.
A gleam began to shine in his eyes. Miss Granger had forgotten something. It was a minor mistake, but a mistake non the less. He chuckled.
Perhaps Miss Granger was losing the battle.
He looked forward to seeing her in class. She might make another mistake.
Hell, she could even pull a Longbottom!
vnvnvnvnvnvnv ...Potions class...
Hermione had briefly considered skipping Potions. She had given up on trying to find what she knew was missing on her essay. She had sighed and rolled it up. Tapping it with her wand, she activated the spell to send it down to Professor Snape's Office.
She shouldn't have done it.
Now- walking down to the dungeons with Harry and Ron beside her- she felt sick.
She would have to face him. She knew he would have noticed her error.
Would he leave it alone? Would he ignore it, or maybe ask her about it after class, when all the other students were gone?
She hoped.
Please.
vnvnvnvnvnvnv
The students filed in, streaming to their seats.
Snape watched for Miss Granger. She came in with Potter and Weasley, her head almost hanging.
So she did notice her mistake.
The corners of his mouth twitched. He stood up, walking to stand in front of the class.
"I will assign you each a potion, a potion that will require Nute's Brain. I will be picking them from your essays."
He smirked.
"Let's hope you made no mistakes on your essay."
His eyes drifted to Granger. Her cheeks were pink with shame. He turned to his desk, picking up a stack of papers. He walked back to the class, pausing in mid-step.
"Oh Ms. Granger,"
He schooled his expression, looking bored and unconcerned.
"That mistake you made on your essay,"
Her look of horror was priceless.
What? Did you think I wouldn't mention it? How naive.
"Was that it takes approximately twelve minutes to massage the Brain Oil into your scalp."
The students gasped.
It truly was a priceless moment.
vnvnvnvnvnvnvnv
Her face burned.
All around her the students whispered and giggled over her mistake.
Damn it.
Harry nudged her, leaning as close to her as he dared.
"Did you really forget to add that, Herm?"
Blast.
She sent a scathing look at Harry. It shouldn't matter so much. Everyone made mistakes. Why did they all consider this something to be stunned over?
She looked at Professor Snape.
Is he...? He is. He's enjoying this. Bloody twat.
She bit her lip, fighting back the urge to say something nasty.
She looked down at her desk as he went around the students, handing out potion instructions. She felt him come closer.
"Potter."
The shuffle of papers.
"Gan-ger" He drew out her name, making it sound impossibly dirty.
The paper slid in front of her eyes. The spidery elegance of his handwriting was like an ironic reminder.
Brain Oil: A substance made from the powder of Nute Brains, said to temporarily increase the applicant's intelliagnce.
She snorted.
"Get to work." The professor snapped.
Twat.
vnvnvnvnvnvnv ..Ministry of Magic...
Miles away, a flying carpet flew to the steps of the Ministry of Magic, it's passengers carefully stepping off. They wobbled up the many steps, two of them laughing, one of them feeling slightly ill.
Mr. Snape tucked Mrs. Granger's arm beneath his, patting her delicate hand.
"Now Mrs. Granger, you must be careful."
She turned to look at him, startled.
"Your beauty is not something these wild wizards of the Ministry see everyday."
She laughed, slapping his arm playfully.
"You're such a flatterer!"
Mr. Granger growled low in his throat. His wife looked back at him, surprised. Then she spoke smoothly-
"Mr. Snape, what exactly will you be showing us here?"
She slid her arm out of his and stepped to her husband's side. He smiled mischievously at them. He motioned for them to follow him.
"I'll be showing you some of the laws we have, and the reasons for them. Also- some age old traditions our pureblood families have."
Their interest was heightened.
vnvnvnvnvnvnv ...Potions Class..
Snape sat at his desk, grading the essays. The ink the flowed from his quill was blood red, it seemed to help his scathing comments seem more scathing.
Really, he thought, I'm only telling the truth.
He wondered how Granger was fairing. He had seen the look she barely managed to control. He looked up, and noticed something odd.
She was not sitting near Longbottom.
In fact, she seemed to as far away from him as possible. In her usual seat was the Lavander girl. The boy was giving Granger pleading looks. She seemed to be ignoring him.
Odd.
Perhaps he shouldn't have been so brutal. She had done something that pleased him without him even noticing. He raised an eyebrow curiously.
Thank you Granger.
vnvnvnvnvnvnv ...Griffindor Common Room- after classes.
"Rough day, dears?"
The Lady in the Portrait asked Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione snorted.
"For me at least."
They crawled through the hole, and suddenly people pounced on Hermione. Literally-pounced. Thomas, a fellow sixth year, was hugging her and slapping her back like she had just won the Quiditch World Cup and was splitting the prize.
She almost fell over.
"Congrats Hermione! You actually mucked up!"
"This is great!"
"She's one of us!"
"Well done, my friend!"
They all seemed to want to thump her on the back and congratulate her. And she hadn't even made it past the hole.
Sod it all.
She glared at them, pushing them away from her.
Then she turned to Harry and Ron,
"I'm going to Madam Pomfry."
"What?" They said in unison.
She sighed. Sometimes they were so...dense.
"I'm going because obviously something is wrong with me."
"Well, let us come with you then, Hermione." This was Harry.
"No."
"But-"
"No!"
She turned, using all her force to push open the back of the portrait. She faintly heard the portrait utter an objection through the ringing heat in her ears.
She stormed down the halls, her thoughts on what might be wrong with her. She searched her mind for a logical explanation.
I must be sick.
She pushed open the Hospital Wing door,
"Madam Pomfry, I'm sick!"
"Ms. Granger!"
Hermione stopped short.
"Professor McGonagall."
vnvnvnvnvnvnv ...Snape...
Snape casually walked down to the Hospital Wing. His enormous robes billowing and almost catching on the crate that floated behind him.
He had finished making the most popular headache potion among the students and staff alike. Who knew that these potions that were so loved were made by his careful hands.
As he rounded a corner, he heard sobbing. He stopped short-he would not enter the wing if there was a child crying. No doubt he would scare them into hysteria.
"NUTE'S BRAIN!"
His eyebrow rose. Perhaps he underestimated the effect of his presence. Suddenly he recognized the voice.
Granger?
Well, well, well. She had finally broke down. There was a muffled response to her outburst, the tone was stern. McGonagall. He stepped cautiously forward till he stood just beside the door.
"And then he gave you the potion's instructions?"
"Yes."
"Why might he have done this?"
"Because he hates me."
Snape snorted. He hated Potter, and that Weasley gnat.
There was a pause-Snape thought they heard him- but Promfry's voice broke the silence.
"You're a brilliant girl, Hermione. Think."
Pause.
He leaned closer.
"He likes me?"
Good God, has the girl lost all sense? He gave her that particular potion because she obviously needed to practice on it. He had done it for the rest of the class as well!
The satisfaction was only a bonus.
"Granger." -McGonagall. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow at breakfast, eat lots of protein."
"But-"
"Now Granger."
Snape quickly retraced his steps, re-walking around the corner just as Granger walked out. The look she gave him was that of a startled rabbit which quickly turned to one of shame.
She scuttled down the corridor.
He turned to open door of the Hospital Wing.
"Severus."
"Minerva."
vnvnvnvnvnvnv ...Harlottes Enchanted Stay and Reside.
Mr. Granger pored over the books the consultant had given him.History of Wizards, by Mario Hersloop.
"Fascinating stuff." He remarked again to his wife. She lay in the bed beside him, also reading. Romance Through the Ages, by Rosalynnd Lovetrace. She mumbled a 'mmhmm' and turned the page.
They had both taken to their books like kittens to cream.
Mrs. Granger, being the old romantic that she was, had fallen 'in love' with the marriage traditions of the Wizarding World. She sighed when she read that the well-off grooms would send their brides a gift each day-twelve days before the wedding. The weddings would be as large as they could, with details such as doves and fairies.
"Fairies!" She exlaimed.
The guests often send gifts before and after the wedding. No matter if they were small gifts of the finest chocolates or large expansive gifts of jewels. And the gifts at the wedding!
All weddings are guaranteed to have an ice sculpture- because they magically appear. No matter what wedding, there is an ice sculpture. There are accounts of sculptures such as pigs, Adam and Eve, butterflies that floated around and even a giant unicorn! It is one of the things people excitedly looked forward too. No two sculptures are the same. Some people believed that the size and beauty of the sculptures depend on the couple's love for eachother, but there is no proof that their belief is a fact.
"Ice sculptures!" She exlaimed.
She turned the page. It was a new chapter.Arranged Marriages. She leaned forward curiously.
Arranged Marriages go back centuries. It is hard to know just when, but one of the rumors say it was when a leading wizard's son had run off and secretly married two women, he then came back and swore to marry a whole heard of cows before sunset. A more probable rumor said it was because two houses desired their children to marry, and the children refused.
The two Head of Houses come together and draw up a contract. They converse about the goods and bads, and what they would personally gain from it. If their needs were met they signed the contract. If not- they went their seperate ways. Sometimes enemies, sometimes friends.
"Oh." She said softly. She turned the page.
What to do when you're considering an arranged marriage for your son/daughter: An Overview.
Look at the position the prospect is in, are they the youngest child? The heir? This is important for your child's future. If they're the youngest child, look to their personality, their talents. Will they be successful? If it is the heir you are considering-look to their riches. Have they enough to last at least three generations? Go for no less. You do not know what kind of debt they might have in later years. You want your child to survive. It would not be well for them to live uncomfortably.
Mrs. Granger shut the book. Nonsense. She thought.
"What's wrong, dear?"
"Nothing. There's just something in this book I don't understand."
"Ask Gerald tomorrow."
He gently shut his book, shifting to his usual sleep position.
"Yes," She nodded, reaching over to turn off the lights. "I think I will."
vnvnvnvnvnvnv ...Hogwarts, breakfast.
Hermione stared meekly at her goblet of stawberry juice. Had she really said that? And to her Professor no less.
"He likes me?"
She snorted. Should have kept to 'he hates me'. What had made her think he liked her? She knew he didn't. Even if he didn't hate her, he still didn't like her.
She hadn't thought she would sleep, she felt so ashamed. But when her head touched the pillow she felt the world slipping away.
She took the Professor's advice and ate extra protein. It wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't seen him right after. She had the growing suspicion he had heard her.
Oh god, what if he had?
She looked up at the staff table. He was untying something from a large silver Ostus asio. It was a letter. From the look on Snape's face, she would have said he looked..nervous.
What kind of letter is it?
He made to get up, but seemed to change his mind. He sat more stiffly in his chair than she had ever seen him. He carefully broke the seal.
She watched his face as he read the letter.
Annoyance.
Resentment.
Anger.
She gasped. What did the letter say that it was making him grip it so hard his knuckles were a pinkish white?
He abruptly stood up, his chair fell back from the force. He stormed out of the hall, his whole body looking ready to wreak havoc.
She looked around at the bewildered Griffindors. She was as clueless as them.
vnvnvnvnvnvnv ...Snape's rooms.
He paced.
Fuck.
He glared at the letter. It's innocence mocked him.
For weeks he had been trying to get an answer, and now that he finally got it-the answer burned him. He wanted to rip the letter into thousands of peices and toss it into the fire.
The letter was spelled against any harmful acts.
He pulled open a cabinet and poured himself a glass of his strongest alcohol. The liquid burned down his throat and settled it's heat into his stomach. He sighed, leaning against his desk.
It had to be.
He pulled the letter towards him, fingering it open.
Dearest Severus,
I am concerned about your behavior. You are my heir, this is expected of you. Do not concern yourself as of yet. I have deemed all unworthy. Consider this a good thing, you will have many things that were once denied.
Your loving Father,
Gerald Snape.
He spat on it, tossing it to the floor. Rereading it had increased his level of disgust.
Marriage?
vnvnvnvnvnvnv
Gerald snape listened to the woman, fully expecting this of her. She had read the book he had given her, and was confused about a certain part. A certain part he had hoped she would notice.
"Mrs. Granger," He said, understanding in his voice.
"Perhaps I should tell you about the way it can be in my world."
He glanced at her husband, he was thoroughly occupied with his book. He settled down in his chair, focusing all his attention on the woman before him.
"There are some things that are very old fashioned. Arranged marriages are usually for purebloods. It ensures that the blood stays pure."
He watched as she bristled at this information.
"There are other reasons, of course. A marriage of conveniencelets the young woman or man go about their lives like they normally would, except.."
He continued.
...Mrs. Granger...
She had listened to the man explain it. Heirs, peer pressure, and even finances. There- he had said something that caught her attention.
"The money it costs to put your daughter through any kind of schooling after Hogwarts, and after that- if she wanted to start up her own practice, would be very, very expansive. It could possibly take her many years. Several tries. An arranged marriage does not necessarilymean her unhappiness. In fact-it could mean the opposite."
She thought.
"If I was...just looking at the idea of an arranged marriage, who would I look at..for my Hermione?"
He smiled.
vnvnvnvnvnvnvnv ...Breakfast table, two months later.
Hermione sat laughing with her friends. She had finally forgiven Nevell for that dream, and even agreed to help him with his charms essay.
She eagerly grabbed the last muffin, sticking her tongue out at Ron as he sputtered.
She had all but forgotten the incident with snape. He hadn't mentioned anything and she prefered it that way. She felt good. Really good. She had sent a letter out to her parents, telling them of the several colleges she was considering. She felt nothing but good could come from them.
WHOOSH
She looked up excitedly. The mail.
The owl that usually delivered her Daily Prophetswooped down, landing wobbily in front of her. She gently undid the newspaper, brushing her fingers gently along it's head.
"Oi, Herm-" Ron said between his toast and jam. He swallowed.
"There's a Quidditch article in there, mind if Harry and me borrow it for a sec?"
"Harry and I."
She corrected as she handed it over. She turned back to her muffin, only to find it being pecked at by an owl. She gasped. It was the same one, the same one, that had delivered Snape's letter months before.
She stared at the letter attached to it's leg.
It looked reproachfully at her, holding out it's foot. She wiped her palms on her robes, and reached out. She untied the letter, absentmindedly patting the owl.
She stared at the address.
Hermione Granger, Hogwarts. The handwriting was definitely larger, and more scrawled. But-it looked so much like...She glanced up at the staff table. Brown eyes met onix. He was staring at the letter in her hands intensely.
"What's that Hermione?" Harry leaned over.
"I don't...know."
She turned it over, her eyes landing on the seal.
Snape.
She quickly looked up at the staff table. He was leaning forward now, frowning. He glared at her and mouthed the words,
open it.
She did. She slid her clean breakfast knife under the thick wax and unfolded the letter. She sighed in relief.
Hermione Dear!
Mum and Dad here. How are you my Darling? I miss you so much. We've had some interesting adventures. Don't even ask Dad about the cow thing. He goes nuts with it! Ranting about how they shouldn't call a lasting way to soften a cow's hair a cure. Honestly, I think It's quite nice. Everyone should have the option of soft hair.
Anyway, Dad says I should get to the point of this letter. But first I have to tell you that we were feeling kind of left out. You in your world and us in ours. We really didn't understand what it was like in the Wizarding World, and for that I'm sorry. Hermione dear, we love you no matter what, but now we feel close to you. We hired a 'Muggle Consultant', I'm sure you know what that is, you're so smart!
He taught us so much about your world! Things make so much more sense now. You don't have to worry about anything anymore. Gerald Snape is a great man. He explained the way things are going to be for you when you graduate. We've taken care of everything! You'll be so proud of us.
Guess what, Hermione!
You're getting married!
"WHAAT!"
It took a while to convice Dad, he's stuck in the stone age you know. But once we got your letter, and I asked him "How can we afford her next school?" He agreed. Of course it wouldn't help just our family. Gerald assured us that the man we picked for you would be eternally grateful. You see, Gerald has only one heir, and because of a curse that was thrown at him during a battle Gerald has lost the ability to you know..get another. And even if he was able, Hermione darling, at his age it wouldn't be recommended.
Gerald assure's us that the Snape coffers are brimming, you will never need to take out any loans or mortgages. I hope your happy Darling, we did this because we love you.
I know how you'll react. I know you'll be angry and astonished that we might do something like this. But we love you. And I know you'll be happy in the end. The contract is binding, so I advise you to get to know your fiance. I'll send a copy of the contract as soon as possible.
And don't worry, it's all legal.
Love Mum.
"WHAAAAT!" She stared numbly at the letter.
What?
"What is it Herm?" Harry reached for the letter. She pulled it out of his reach. Shaking her head almost violently. She turned to the pale man at the staff table. She slowly rose from her seat.
"YOU," She screamed out. "HOW CAN THIS HAVE HAPPENED! HAVE YOU NO CONTROL OVER YOUR MEDDLING FATHER! YOU'VE RUINED MY LIFE!"
The man stood, his own anger chilling the air around him.
"Ms. Granger." He spoke calmly. "I don't know what has happened, so quit your shouting. Follow me if you want any kind of assistance."
He turned and strode out the hall.
Hermione was left where she stood, without a target for her helpless anger. She looked around, huffing. Everyone was silent with surprise.
Blast.
She turned and ran.
It took her minutes to catch up with him. When she rounded a corner, panting, she found him waiting impatiently. She glared at him, he glared back.
The walk to his office was silent. Her mind thought up all sorts of nasty things to say, and she almost said them multiple times.
The door to his office swung open, Hermione was ushered in. She stood in the middle of the room and turned to face him. He looked tired and worn out.
"Do you know?" She demanded.
"No. But I have an idea."
She snorted.
He sighed.
She would be difficult, she knew. In the end, if there was going to be an end, he would be more worn out than she. She crossed her arms.
"We're to be married."
vnvnvnvnvnvnvnv
I'm being fast with this story. Only the second chapter and already they know. Yes, I know this fic is another of those 'forced marriage' fics. I planned it that way. There are some things that obviously are seriously unlikely. I doubt Hermione's mom would so easily be convinced to an arranged marriage. Who knows, maybe her decision was 'magically' influenced? All I'm saying is don't get mad at me. It's all part of the plot.
I apologize for any grammar errors, and any misspellings. I forgot how to spell some of the names, I know I did. If you could correct me on them, I'd be grateful.
Oh yeah. That part where he gave her the potion to do and it spoke about increasing the person's intelligance? I had no clue till after I wrote it that it went perfectly with what happened.
Ostus asio: It's a North American owl. I think.
REVIEW: Because I love Elephants.
Ta.