It was a little after six in the morning when the sunlight broke the horizon and began filtering into Hermione's bedroom. She sat up, swinging her feet to the floor, and fumbled them around searching for her hideous pink slippers. Stretching, she made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash up, her fuzzy friend following behind.

She stared into the mirror, trying to psyche herself up for the confrontation she knew was going to have to come. She hadn't come back to their chambers and gone to bed until after three, although a hot cup of tea had somehow managed to remain full on her sidetable, no matter how much she drank. The drawing room had a smashed glass next to the fireplace and two empty whisky bottles sitting on the end table, those she had expected. Their potions journals were thrown in a haphazard pile, Severus must have threatened Eakey, or else Hermione was certain the faithful house elf would have cleaned up before allowing her to see the disarray. One of the armchairs had been laid flat, she assumed he had knocked it over when attempting to go to bed.

Sighing, she ran a brush through her tangled hair and straightened her blue tank top and white fleece sleeping pants. She left the bathroom, grabbing the phial of potion she had prepared off her bedside nightstand. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for what would most likely be the most difficult conversation she and her husband would ever have.

Although, could it get more painful than the one yesterday? Moo, moo little gormless cow…

She crossed the drawing room, noting that Eakey had come in at some point and made everything right. Hermione allowed herself a small smile before reaching Severus' door and opening it.

Squinting her eyes in the darkness, she could immediately tell he, or Eakey, had the heavy drapes pulled tightly to keep out the early morning sun. She softly set the phial down beside his bed and stepping to the window, Hermione threw back the drapes.

The string of curses that flew from Severus' mouth at the shock of being awakened drowned out any pleasantries Hermione would have given him.

"Drink this," she said as she handed him the phial of hangover cure she had prepared. It was a polite, but firm suggestion that brokered no arguments.

"Close the damn drapes and go away," he muttered, uncorking the phial and downing the contents. "I thought I made my wishes clear during our last conversation."

Well, at least he trusts me enough not to poison him. That's a positive.

"No, Severus, I'm going to talk, and then you can send me away," replied Hermione. "But first, first I get to talk."

His response was to turn his entire body away from her and stare at the opposite wall. She stood by the window and gazed at him. He had passed out last night and she felt sure it had been Eakey who had dressed him in the lounging pants he was wearing. She could see the scars that crisscrossed his back, marking him in a way that didn't even allude to the pain he felt. For a few minutes she fought the overwhelming desire to trace them, caress them with her hands, as if she could make them disappear.

Finally, she gave in and crawled up on the bed beside him, running her fingertips lightly on his back. She could feel his heart beating, could hear his breathing, she felt him shudder, his hair falling onto the pillow.

He had hoped she would just leave, he couldn't deal with the embarrassment, the pain. If he looked at her now he would see exactly what he could never have. He didn't want to know, he couldn't live knowing that his life would be spent with this perfect witch just out of his reach.

He felt the bed give as she sat down on it, and was frightened. Fear and shame gripped his heart, squeezing his lungs. Then she touched him and he had to fight the urge to leap from the bed and run again. He could feel her stroking his scars, her touch was almost as painful as when Voldemort first gave him the wounds, as if his physical exposure somehow gave her a glimpse into his soul. His wretched soul.

Why? Why was she here? How could she bear to touch him? How did she have so much cruelty in her that she would humiliate him, taunt him, tease him with the dreams of his youth? Why had she done it in the first place? Why couldn't she just let him rot in Azkaban? Why did she choose to bind herself to the desolate soul that he was? Why did she think him worthy of a Redeemer?

Then she shifted, bringing her knees close to his back, and laying her right hand on his upper arm. It was all he could do to whisper.

"Why?"

"I've waited so long for you to truly ask," she answered, her tears flooding through her voice. "You rejected me yesterday. Know that, Severus, you rejected me. I will never reject you. When I am finished, you can send me away, but I will continue to offer myself."

"But why?"

"Mercy and grace. Mercy to save you from what you deserve, and grace to give you what you don't deserve. Oh Severus, if only you could understand," she wondered if he could hear her heart breaking. "No one is better than you; we have all committed wrongs. Hate has been in my heart, in Harry's, in Albus and Minerva's. But so has love, and pain, and death. Ginny and Draco have both taken lives, and together they have created it. You think your sins outweigh your rights, and maybe they do for now, but I see the worth inside of you. I see who you can be. I know you have felt love. I know you have felt the desire to protect others. I know you did what you did for the sake of those who rejected you."

"You don't have to prove anything to me," she continued. "I accept you for who you are. And I offer you myself. I offer you my name as your Redeemer. I offer you my talents, so you may take the job you have long desired. I offer you my friendship, so you may enjoy your life with companionship. I offer you my body, so you may derive comfort from it. But most of all, Severus, I offer you my soul, so you may be cleansed by the light that is within me. I offer it all as a gift. I offer you my entire life, my being, but I cannot force you to take it. You have to accept me, Severus."

Her voice broke, and he could feel her hand tighten on his arm.

"Why me?" he asked again.

"If I told you that all I could ever give you was my friendship and my intellectual collaboration, what would you say?"

Severus turned his head to gaze up at her, and said with a hint of awe, "I would say I was the most blessed wizard to ever live."

"You see me for myself, and my intelligence attracts you rather than scares you away. You are my hope for true acceptance in love. That, Severus, is why I offer you everything," she sobbed, her fingers reaching down to brush the strands of black hair out of his face. Reaching up, he grabbed her wrist with one hand and the back of her head with the other. Pulling her down met her lips with his, trying to show her the things he couldn't say, because these were emotions he had never before felt.

It wasn't a kiss of passion or love, the kind that was written about in the romantic drivel lonely witches liked to read.

It wasn't a kiss of sexual desire, the kind that left wizards and witches panting.

It wasn't a first kiss that had been planned for ages, with roses and wine leading up to the event.

It wasn't even really a physical kiss, as much as it was two lost souls finding each other. It was warm and salty from their tears. It was comforting and cleansing, and a promise of so much more to come.

And it was broken when Severus let out a blood curdling, soul-wrenching scream.

Throwing Hermione back towards the headboard, he leapt out of the bed and stumbled, twisting in the sheets, falling to the floor, screaming as if he was dying. Holding his arms across his chest, he rocked back and forth on the floor, painful memories of his past shooting through his brain. He curled into a fetal position, every fear he ever had manifesting itself in front of him, as if it again lived to haunt him.

Visions of Sirius leading him to the Whomping Willow and that werewolf – his heart racing, his own voice echoing in his head.

Visions of his first Dark Revel, the searing pain when he received the Dark Mark.

Visions of Lily dying, her body crumpling to the ground, falling over and over.

Visions of Dumbledore begging him to finish what was started so many years ago.

Visions of running, scared and helpless through the South American jungle, Aurors so close behind.

Repeated rounds of Crucio, but all at once.

This is worse than anything the Dark Lord ever did. This pain, make it stop, this pain. He begged in his mind, his own screams echoing in his skull.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. Collapsing on his back, his cheeks moist, his chest heaving, he struggled to focus his eyes to see Hermione, who had moved to the edge of the bed, and was staring down at him.

Smiling? Why was she smiling? Grinning, clapping her hands? I've gone bloody mad.

Hermione jumped off the bed and knelt beside him. She leaned down and dropped a soft kiss on his lips. He lifted his left arm to brush a stray curl behind her ear and gasped.

It was gone.

A loud BOOM from Hermione's bedroom drew their attention, and Severus was shocked by the brute strength in the young witch as she grabbed his hands and dragged him to his feet, pulling him through the sitting room and into her room as fast as she could.

They found a very angry Kneazle kitten, back arched, fur sticking straight up just like his tail, fangs bared. He was standing at the foot of the bed, staring at the hope chest and hissing angrily.

In response to his furious feline noises came a sweet warbling of a songbird from the hope chest.

The witch and wizard knelt down on either side of Sebastian, staring in awe at the single giant oak tree in the center of the chest. Huge and full of leaves, the noise was coming from a small nest in one of the branches, and as Hermione stroked her finger over the bird it became silent and froze into its wooden form.

"One tree?" Severus asked, confused and still shocked from the last few minutes.

"It worked," she responded, not really answering the question, and in fact, really only creating more. "It WORKED!"

Hermione jumped to her feet, kitten in her arms, and swung him around.

"IT WORKED! IT WORKED! IT WORKED!"

"WHAT are you babbling about, you insolent witch?"

"Find your ring! Where's your ring?" she continued, "You have to put it on! Quickly!" She dropped a dizzy Kneazle onto the rug and headed back through the door to his room.

"My ring is right here," he answered, pulling the disillusioned object away from his body, avoiding the staggering feline.

She stopped and turned back around, without taking a moment to ponder the implications of his continuing to wear the ring despite his rather vocal protests, she touched it with her wand and tapped her foot impatiently waiting for him to get it off the chain.

"Why am I in such a hurry again?" Severus asked, a bit apprehensive.

"You have to complete the Dikos Mou Esos," Hermione said, barely containing her excitement. "You can't argue now, Severus, the mark is gone and that proves it. Not to mention the hope chest magic is complete. Albus was right!"

"I don't want to be married to you," he faltered, "you, you – "

"Yes, yes, gormless cow, moo, moo, moo," she answered, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We have years of marriage to argue about this, just put the damn ring on, Severus."

"How do you know I'm not going to go immediately to Treed and severe our bond?" He questioned, fumbling with the ring.

She knelt at his side and gently took it from him, and holding it above his left ring finger, squeezed his palm as she softly recited, "I, Hermione Jane Granger Snape, willingly, and without reservation, give you this ring, as my partner, my equal, and my husband."

Carefully placing the ring on his finger, she looked into his eyes, her breath caught in her throat; she wasn't exactly dealing with the most rational of wizards.

It was as if the entire Manor released a collective sigh as he returned her gaze and finally moved.

Taking her left hand in his own, he removed her wedding band and held it above her finger.

"And I, Severus Tobias Snape, willing and without reservation, give you this ring, as my partner, my equal, my wife."

They both stood there staring at each other for a moment, not daring to say anything for fear it would break the spell between them. When Severus spoke, his words mirrored Hermione's thoughts exactly.

"Well, that was perhaps the most frustrating, exhausting, exhilarating fifteen minutes of my life."

A/N: To all the WIKTT out there, who just went through a whole debate about British married names. Hermione said what she said (Hermione Jane Granger Snape) simply to show Severus that she was his before during the first ceremony (Hermione Jane Granger) and now (Hermione Jane Snape). So, no flames about that, please. To all the WIKTT out there, who just went through a whole debate about British married names. Hermione said what she said (Hermione Jane Granger Snape) simply to show Severus that she was his before during the first ceremony (Hermione Jane Granger) and now (Hermione Jane Snape). So, no flames about , please.

Yes, this was the final chapter, an epilogue will follow shortly. This is the first in an eventual trilogy. Consider this their first "year" of marriage. The next fic will follow their first year together at Hogwarts, and the third will follow the next year when Minerva sends them on a little trip together. However, I need to take a break from this story, and will be posting my next "big" fic (as opposed to my little one-shots) called Agapi.

Agapi also has Hermione and Severus, and brings in many more of our beloved Harry Potter characters, including a very upset Ginny. It begins literally ten minutes after Book 6 ends. It could be labeled a time-turner fic, but I hope ya'll will give it a shot! (I mean, I didn't give you a traditional Marriage Law fic, right?)