A/N: Thank you all so much for the amazingly supportive reception of this fic! I never expected to receive so many reviews, and I admit it made me fear that I won't be able to live up to your expectations. I really hope you all did not expect a lemony epic, because I never really intended to write more than three chapters. If you've read my other fics, you know that I'm not a friend of drama, drawn-out misunderstandings and struggling until a relationship is finally getting anywhere - which might have been a (probably more realistic) route the original story could have taken. I prefer to let my characters take the rational approach; discuss things openly, think them through and come to an agreement. For an after-war Severus and someone as rational as Hermione, I believe this is also a valid interpretation, though of course by far not the only possible one. If someone wrote a different continuation of Sixpence_Jones' story, I'd love to read it!

Thanks again to ouatic-7 for proof-reading! If you still spot mistakes, they are entirely mine!

A Marriage of Convenience

When Hermione woke up the next morning – well rested thanks to the Dreamless Sleep potion she had taken – the sun was already higher in the sky than she was used to seeing it when getting out of bed. Last night had taken a toll on her, and her body had taken the time it needed to recuperate.

Now that she was awake, though, all her turmoil came rushing back. What was she supposed to do now? Simply accept she was now the wife of the former Potions Master because of a ridiculous and archaic law, and move on with her life? What did he expect of her? A marriage of convenience?

Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. At least, they had a few things in common. Like her, he loved books and quiet; unlike Ron, he was able to hold a conversation for longer then five minutes, even if it wasn't about Quidditch.

She and Ron had ceased talking a long time ago. They had lived their lives next to each other, but never really with one another. It might have been different if they had ever had children. Doubtlessly, they both would have devoted time, interest and emotion to their offspring. But Hermione had never gotten pregnant. Ron was sure that she was barren. After all, he had the Weasley genes while she was the only child of parents who had not managed to conceive again after her. He had been so convinced that the fault lay with her that he had refused to even see a healer about it. If the fertility potion she had been taking for months didn't help, nothing would, so there was no point.

Right now, Hermione was extremely grateful there weren't children's lives destroyed as well. Would Ron have put her up on the market, had she been the mother of his children? She couldn't entirely rule out the possibility, and that alone told her all she needed to know about the state of their relationship.

It had been rotten for years. Why hadn't she seen it sooner? She hadn't been happy – she had just carried on, telling herself that it was unreasonable to expect connubial bliss eight years into marriage. Of course they would run out of things to say to each other. Of course the interest in sex would decline with both of them working overtime and falling into bed tired every night. And apart from their families – his family as she didn't have one anymore – they had no common interests. So it was Sundays at the Weasleys, the occasional dinner with Ginny and Harry, and things they didn't do together – Ron going off to play Quidditch with the guys and she burying herself in books in some library.

Really, looking back, one could wonder how and why they had held on such a long time.

Hermione looked out the large, leaded glass window. It oversaw huge gardens – mostly lawns with some scattered trees, and large flowerbeds closer to the house that must look gorgeous in summer. She would never have thought that the austere Potions professor lived in a place like this. She wondered what the story behind his inheritance might be. Maybe he would tell her now that she was his wife.

Did that mean she was going to live here with him? What did he do workwise, these days? Just play lord to the manor?

Well, she wouldn't get any answers to these questions if she stayed cooped up in the guest room. She had to get dressed and go down so they could talk. Which brought her to her next problem... what to wear. A cleaning charm on her underwear would do for once, but she was reluctant to dress in her evening gown for breakfast.

She transfigured it into a simple day dress, but was not very pleased with the result. It was impossible to change the material. It was still a satiny silk, and looked more like a nightie – rather sensual and seductive, not really a style she was trying for. Just when she was about to transfigure the borrowed night shirt for a second time, one of the elves – was it Topsy or Turvy? – popped into the room.

"Turvy heard that Mistress is awake. Master is sending you this if Mistress is inclined to wear it." The elf held out a dark burgundy robe for her. "Master transfigured one of his coats for Mistress and hopes she likes it."

Mistress? Is that what she was now? The mistress of this manor? She had never wanted to have house-elves to serve her. It was a bit disconcerting given her history.

"Thank you, Turvy," Hermione said, relieving the elf of her burden. "I will try it on. Please let your master know that I'll be downstairs soon."

Turvy bowed to her and vanished with another pop. Curious, Hermione held the robe up to have a look at it. It was made from very soft, fine-spun wool – much like the frock coats Snape usually wore. It also closed in the front with a small row of buttons, but the part beneath the waist flared out and was rather voluminous, giving the dress-like coat a most feminine touch. The colour was very pleasing too.

After using the adjoining bathroom – someone had provided the basic body care products like shampoo, toothpaste and even conditioner – Hermione put on the new robe. It fit astonishingly well, and was, to her surprise, quite flattering. Severus had stuck to his rather severe style, but instead of the high-closed neck he preferred to wear, the robe now had an extra wide, slightly upstanding collar and a low-cut neckline. Hermione liked it. She looked very mature and sophisticated in it. It was an outfit she could easily picture Narcissa Malfoy wearing, and, as much as her character left to be desired, the woman had impeccable taste in clothing. Who'd have guessed that Severus Snape had a talent for seamstress charms?

She twisted her hair into a matching up-do, securing it with a charm. Even her high heels didn't look too over-the-top with this dress. Yes, this would definitely do. Very befitting for a mistress of a manor. If that's what she really was now. Time to find out.

Hermione found her way down the grand staircase and back into the study, where they sat last night. It was empty now. Thankfully one of the elves appeared again.

"Master is awaiting you in the dining room," Topsy explained. "If Mistress will please follow me..."

The dining room was just as splendid as the other rooms she had seen in passing. Very traditional, for sure, but not overbearingly opulent. In fact, the entire design bore the hallmark of Severus Snape: elegant and understated. A bit severe, it felt strangely impersonal and wasn't exactly exuding warmth. Nothing that couldn't be helped with the odd book lying around, a pair of shoes that had not yet made it into the closet, or some scattered toys to stumble over. Now wait – where the heck had that come from?

Flustered at her own, traitorous thoughts, Hermione approached the well-laid breakfast table. Severus had obviously been waiting for her so they could have breakfast together. He had nothing but a coffee in front of him and the Daily Prophet.

"Good morning. I'm sorry I slept so long," Hermione excused her lateness.

He gestured for her to take a seat. "That's fine – I only got up myself an hour ago," he assured her, putting the newspaper aside. "You look ... much better this morning."

He had almost said 'lovely', but that was not a word he ever used, and he wasn't about to start now. He wouldn't have used 'stunning' either, although that was certainly an adequate description. Who'd have guessed that the little know-it-all could give Narcissa a run for her money, the way she carried herself in a decent wizarding robe?

Hermione raised a brow at the poisonous paper that now lay folded next to his plate. "Anything interesting in the news?"

He snorted. "I guess you could say that. Apparently, there has been a royal balls-up at the Ministry of Magic's Midwinter Ball yesterday. Some ginger dunderhead caused quite a stir. Would you like to read about it?"

"Thank you, but if it's as dreadful as I suspect, I'd rather keep my appetite."

"It is rather dreadful," he conceded, and gestured Topsy to start serving breakfast. "It might please you to hear, though, that the sympathy lies mostly with you."

"Mostly?"

"Some people think that Weasley must have had a valid reason to resort to such drastic measures."

"I guess I cannot blame them for thinking that." Considering what she had finally acknowledged about the state of their marriage, it was probably true. It usually took two to quarrel. Hermione looked at the plates that were floated at the table. It all looked delicious, but she found that she didn't have much of an appetite.

"Hermione?"

She raised her head and looked at her new husband questioningly.

"Stop searching for a reason," Severus said in a serious voice. "Nothing you could have done would justify the way in which he chose to end your relationship after eight years of marriage. It's inconceivable. An utter disgrace."

She smiled, and reached for a piece of toast. He was right. Ron Weasley would neither get to ruin her self-respect nor her appetite. "You know... maybe it's not even true that I don't like you," she offered, feeling a bit more light-hearted. In all honesty, she was starting to like him much more than she would ever have guessed.

"I'm happy to hear that, considering you're my wife, for now."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at that. "For now? So is that still open to change?"

Severus hesitated a brief moment, putting his fork down and dabbing his mouth with a napkin before speaking. "A marriage only becomes irrevocable with consummation," he said, eyeing her carefully to see her reaction. "There is a thirty day grace period... to make sure the bride doesn't come with attachment, no doubt."

He had carefully skirted the topic yesterday, not wanting her to have to think about being intimate with her former teacher when she had already so much to process. She might not have expected marital connubialities to become an issue so soon, possibly not at all. Maybe she thought they could have a platonic relationship, being husband and wife in name only. But it was not how the law worked.

If she was shocked, she managed to hide it well. Requirement of the law or not – being married to someone usually implied sexual relations at some point, so, of course, the thought had occurred to her. She had tried to not ponder it too closely yesterday. Her emotions had been all over the place, and just analysing her rather shocking reaction to his kiss had been too much to tackle.

She had never thought about him like that. Of course not – he'd been her teacher for the longest time. As such, he had been rather asexual to her. The kiss surely had changed that. When finally in bed last night, waiting for sleep to come, she couldn't help replaying it in her head. It had been a surprisingly nice kiss. His lips had been firm but gentle, much like the grip of his hand. It had felt warm and strong, comforting even. He had rather nice hands. That she had noticed before, having seen him prepare ingredients in class for so many years.

Did she feel attracted to him in that way? She tried to look at him objectively. While he had always looked a lot older than his actual age when she was still in school, he hadn't aged much during the last ten years. He must be approaching fifty by now, but his hair was still jet black, and he didn't look as stressed out and haggard as he used to. He seemed to have gained a bit of weight, and he wore it well. Yes, his nose was still a bit on the large side, his teeth a bit crooked and not as snow-white as Hollywood actors had made fashionable. But his eyes were arresting, and he still exuded power and possessed a commanding presence. While he was not classically handsome, he certainly wasn't unattractive either.

"Yes, I had gathered as much," Hermione said calmly. "It's a sexist and archaic law. Which is why I suspect I won't be a free and single woman after thirty days if the marriage is not consummated?"

"No. If there is no consummation, you will find yourself back on the market, so to speak. Unless Weasley graciously agreed to take you back. If he doesn't, your hand in marriage is up for offers again, to be given to the next highest bidder. He will surely hope for that outcome as he will most likely have realised by now that he should have gotten a great deal more money for you."

Hermione paled at his words. Given that she had taken the first part of his explanation rather well, Severus suspected it was the idea of being auctioned again and not necessarily the idea of becoming intimate with him that unsettled her.

"Like women are cattle men can put on the market!" she spat, confirming his conclusion. Some colour returned to her face with her agitation. "This law needs to be abolished! I will see to it, I swear, if it's the last thing I do!"

"Faulty and outdated as the law is, it was never been intended to be used that way," Severus pointed out. "It is the only acceptable way to get out of unwanted marriage: Setting the wife up with a new husband and settling all assets and benefits in a monetary agreement. Usually, it is done with all parties' consent, including the bride's. However, witch auctions have been known to happen, as much as they are considered disgraceful nowadays, and all participants – save the bride – face public scorn."

"All participants?" Hermione enquired. "Meaning The Prophet had something unflattering to say about you too?"

"Quite a bit. Actually, that I dared offer for you caused more outrage than Weasley putting you up for auction in the first place. But that was to be expected. After all, I'm the perfect villain; Weasley can't even seem to pull that off properly."

"Just wait and see what his family's reaction will be. I daresay public outrage will be the least of his worries then."

"You might take some comfort from his stupidity: The bride-price paid by the new spouse is supposed to reimburse the ex-husband for all that he loses with his wife, which is everything a couple jointly owned. Weasley was offered compensation of a galleon and accepted."

Hermione stared at him, mouth agape. "Are you saying that everything that was ours – the house, our funds, the furniture we bought... it's all mine now?"

"Everything that was either yours to begin with or acquired during your marriage," Severus confirmed, smirking. "I suppose it's the wizarding way of saying that a woman has value. And it's why the husband gets paid compensation."

"So... Ron is basically knutless now?"

"Not exactly knutless. The galleon I paid him is rightfully his to keep." Severus' sneer widened, and Hermione couldn't help gloating as well.

"Oh my gosh... Talk about poetic justice!"

"Do your assets make you a good catch?" he inquired.

"You wish!" They had gotten married two years after the war, just when Ron had earned his Auror robes and Hermione had started her career in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They had both been enthusiastic about bringing changes to British Wizarding Society and, as prominent figures of the resistance, the newly installed government under Kingsley Shacklebolt had welcomed them to their ranks with open arms. As Ministry wages were based on seniority, they didn't make much money in those first years. Most of it went for the rent for their flat, until they bought their house four years ago. It had been too big for them, but at the time they had planned on starting a family soon. Well, that hadn't come to fruition, and they were still paying off the loan they had taken. No, she was definitely not a rich woman, but it didn't look like he needed one.

"The house is not paid off yet, so technically, it still belongs to Gringotts. But without my salary, Ron won't be able to afford it. I guess he'll find himself homeless soon. I must say, it's immensely gratifying revenge."

"I told you there is a bright side to this. However, the price for your hand is likely to go up exponentially if your hand in marriage becomes available once more. Doubtlessly, Weasley has realised by now what a colossal mistake he's made. He'll be wiser next time and might still get a good deal out of it." Severus sobered. "If you were to be auctioned again, Hermione, chances are that you would end up with one of the wolves for a husband after all. Parkinson, or even Nott, would certainly bid for you, and considering how little concern for your safety your ex-husband displayed last night, he might be swayed by the amount of money they had to offer."

"So it's either I stay married to you, or I'd have to Avada myself in order to stay out of some Death Eater's grip?"

"Technically, there is a third option. You could find yourself a suitable husband."

"Within thirty days?" Hermione snorted. "Well, I guess I'll have to consult the list I've been keeping with all the marriage proposals I received over the years."

"Sarcasm delivered in such a dry tone, I'm impressed. Maybe you should stay married to me; we would make quite the couple."

It was said half jokingly, but there was an undertone in his voice that made her look up. "Are you serious?" she asked, not entirely sure what answer she was hoping for.

Severus had given the question quite some thought last night while he lay restlessly in his bed and wondered what the hell he had done. He had quickly realised that the situation he had brought upon them offered no easy way out. Even if Weasley came crawling back – which he probably would – he was reasonably sure that Hermione would never forgive him. In all likelihood, she would greet him with a long-term hex. There was no way she could go back on the auction block, not even if she found a suitor of her liking. He'd have to be able to compete monetarily, and still might lose if Weasley turned out even more petty and mean than he had already proven to be.

There was only one safe way for Hermione to be passed on to someone more reputable: By becoming his wife first. Then, all dealings with potential suitors would be up to him, and money wouldn't be an issue. But for that to happen, they had to consummat their marriage first.

And that is where the complications began. He had no idea how she felt about that. Was it something she'd reluctantly consent to in order to be rid of him? In that case, he'd have a hard time going through with it. He'd be a liar if he claimed that he wasn't interested – she had certainly blossomed into an appealing woman and, added to her physical attractiveness, she carried a level head on her shoulders with just enough viciousness to earn his respect. Also, she was intelligent, loyal and had a dry humour. If not for her age and the fact that she had once been his pupil and a member of the infernal Golden Trio, he had to admit that she was the perfect woman for him.

Which was exactly the reason why it was unwise to risk forming an attachment, which was very likely to happen if they took things to the next level – namely to his bedroom. If the thought of being intimate with him repulsed her, he would prefer to keep his distance rather than engage in activities for which only one party could raise enthusiam. Unfortunately, they didn't really have much of a choice.

If – however unlikely it may be – she felt any attraction for him as well, he really saw no reason why they shouldn't stay married. Other than public opinion, that is, which he didn't give a damn about. He suspected Hermione might not care about it either.

So was that really an option – turning this sham of a marriage into something meaningful? Could they – could he – really make it work?

"Severus?"

Hermione's questioning voice pulled him out of his thoughts and reminded him that he had still to answer her. Was he seriously considering this?

He shrugged, trying for a nonchalance she would probably not fall for given the length of time it had taken him to answer, "It's entirely up to you. I'm a man of my word, but as you're doubtlessly also aware, I'm not a man any woman in her right mind would consider for marriage. Besides, I'm old enough to be your father."

Those were mostly issues she would have to deal with. He was, in all honesty, a difficult man who was set in his ways. And he didn't even have the physique to make up for it. Although he felt confident there were areas he could compete with an oaf like Weasley... The dunderhead had always lacked finesse, creativity and dexterity in school. His cluelessness and rather short attention span were only made worse by his overwhelming need for instant gratification in all things. One had just to watch the boy eat. Severus shuddered to even think about his bedroom manners, or rather the lack thereof.

"Well, you're not my father, so that is not an argument at all," Hermione countered. His forthright answer had taken her by surprise. He was serious about this, and he would not be the one to try and annul this marriage. That alone made her breathless. Could he truly want her for a wife? Was that the true reason he had been so quick to step in and take Ron up on his offer?

"Is it so hard to imagine that I could want a woman at my side, just like every other man?" Severus asked, not liking her obvious bafflement. However cold and distant he might be with most people, he still was made of flesh and blood.

"No, it's not. I'm just surprised that you'd consider me for that role. I always thought you despised me."

"That's a rather strong word. I found you a nuisance when you were a pupil, mostly. And I stand by it. But apart from being a know-it-all you were also smart, studious, level-headed and loyal, character traits I value. As much as it was a spur of the moment decision to toss that coin, my subconscious must have found a certain appeal in the idea of having you for a wife, all consequences included."

Hermione smiled. "I never much liked you when you were my teacher, either. But I always admired your brilliance and, later on, your bravery."

"You are the Gryffindor, Hermione. And I can only guess how much bravery it must take to face your options. But you don't have to decide anything right now. You have thirty days to figure out how you want to play this."

"Thank you," Hermione answered after a brief pause. "I don't think I need thirty days. I'm certainly not going back to Ron, and I'd rather kill myself than to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. The truth is there isn't anybody else I can imagine being married to better than I can imagine us staying together."

It was true, Hermione realized. She had once married for what she thought was love, but was in truth only a remnant of a teenage infatuation, paired with familiarity and feelings of friendship. Had her mind been more involved in her decision-making at the time, she would have realised that she and Ron had almost nothing in common and very different needs. But she had silenced that tiny voice of doubt, simply for convenience. Because she had been scared of the alternative – being left alone.

Now, fate – or her former husband, depending on how she looked at it – had dropped her into the hands of this man who she would never have considered for a husband. And she found the idea far less disturbing than she had expected.

Hermione realised that Severus had still to react to her announcement. She searched his gaze and found him mostly stunned. "Don't look so incredulous, now. You were the one who suggested it in the first place! We do respect each other, that's a fundamental thing. We don't expect never ending bliss to begin with, something that can only end in disappointment. We are both aware of the difficulties, but willing to make it work. And we would both love to stick it into people's faces."

He almost had to laugh at that. Yes, right. He would pay gold to do that. A galleon didn't even begin to cover the enjoyment he would get from seeing the shock on their stupid faces.

"Still..." Hermione added a bit hesitantly, "while I cannot deny finding you attractive, I would like to have a little more time to get to know you better before we... consummate our marriage if that's alright with you?"

"I'd prefer it that way myself." It would be terribly awkward to proceed to the bedroom just to seal a contract. It would probably not set a good tone for their marriage, either. He'd rather have some time to seduce her properly' that she wasn't averse to the idea made the endeavour ever so much sweeter.

She frowned. "Is that something the ministry will know about? Are they able to monitor the status of our marriage somehow?" Last thing she wanted or needed was some ministry officials, her ex-husband and Death Eaters out for revenge tracking her mating schedule.

"No," he assured her, "they aren't. We are officially married, just like we would have been if we had been handfasted in the traditional manner. The ministry would only know something is amiss after those thirty days, if nothing had happened between us."

"Good. So we don't have to tell or justify anything to anyone."

"What if your friends ask?"

"If I have slept with you? They wouldn't dare! Well, Ron probably would. And I would let him know that it's none of his damned business what I do or do not do with my husband."

"Well, I guess you'll have your opportunity soon enough. A couple of owls arrived earlier this morning. Turvy directed them to the owlery as they would not release their letters to us. When you are done eating, we can go for a walk and fetch them."

On their way to the owlery, which was set a bit apart from the building, they passed a lovely, overgrown gazebo that promised a nice, shady retreat on hot summer days, a greenhouse in which, as Severus explained to her, grew rare plants for potion ingredients, and a porch swing attached to a huge tree, overlooking a small pond.

It all had a touch of wilderness to it... the lawns were sprinkled with weeds that would probably be wildflower blooms in summer, the grass was a bit too long, the rosebushes had taken over the flower beds, and the stables were empty. His grandparents, Severus told her, had possessed horses, but Severus didn't know how to ride having grown up in a city as the son of a mill worker.

He was a bit at a loss what to do with the manor all by himself. The two elves had enough to do to keep the inside of the house in order, and he didn't much care for gardening. Hermione liked the garden just like it was in its slightly neglected, dormant state, especially now, bathed in the subdued light of a winter morning. It felt almost otherworldly.

The owlery was small, but it usually housed only two owls. Now, there were three others waiting who still had letters tied to their feet. One, Hermione recognized immediately as Harry's new owl, Sir Walter – Hermione had never found out where he had come up with that name. The other was from her in-laws – or rather, her ex-in laws. And the last one was hers and Ron's owl, Hermes. His was the first whose letter Hermione untied, and the fact that Hermes simply settled down again on his perch proved what Severus had told her: he was now rightfully her bird, and he obviously considered this owlery his new home. If not explicitly told to wait, owls usually returned to where they belonged.

Hermione unrolled the piece of parchment, which had just one sentence scribbled onto it in Ron's rather untidy scrawl: "Hermione, where are you?!"

She huffed. How typical. He hadn't even grasped the enormity of what he'd done, and was utterly clueless about the consequences. He had probably woken up hungover and befuddled, only to find his wife missing. Did he even remember with whom she had left yesterday evening?

Harry's letter at least helped to shed some light on the matter. After her and Severus' exit, Ron had drunk some more while Harry and Arthur had tried in vain do to some damage control at the Ministry. By the time they had realized their efforts were for naught and that there was no way to revoke the situation Ron and Severus had created, Harry and Ginny had taken an almost passed out Ron home and put him into bed. They weren't sure how much he would remember, but they promised to be back the next morning and fully inform him in no uncertain terms about the tremendous stupidity of his actions.

'Please, Hermione', Harry wrote, 'I know you're probably not okay right now, so I can't beg you to let me know that you are. Just give me a sign of life, anything please, so I know Snape hasn't locked you away somewhere, or done worse. Merlin, we really hope you're all right! Please, write if you can, or I will send out the Aurors to find Snape's hideout!"

"Harry is threatening to bring in the cavalry if I don't let him know that I'm still alive," Hermione sighed. "You don't happen to have any parchment nearby?"

To her surprise, Severus pulled a small notepad and an ink pen out of his robe pocket. He huffed at her surprise, "I grew up among Muggles, Hermione. And I'm not so ideologically blinded to not recognize technical superiority when I see it. This is a lot more practical than parchment and quill."

He enlarged the notepad and gave it to her so Hermione could quickly pen down a few words. 'Hold your horses, saviour of the wizarding world – I don't need rescue. I'm fine. Not entirely, but I will be. I'll send you a full report soon. Love, Hermione. PS: Feel free to hex my ex-husband.'

She tied the parchment to Sir Walter's foot and sent him off. The last owl message, from Arthur, was rather long. Hermione skimmed it – it was mostly expressions of shock and outrage, offered excuses on behalf of their son and the promise to do whatever they could to help. Then, Arthur explained in full technical detail what Severus had already told her last night – about the magical consequences of the deal and how to possibly circumvent it – namely by waiting for the thirty days to expire and go back to Ron. From the tone of the letter, Arthur already suspected how unlikely that was.

"Too bad that Ron didn't have a bit more of Arthur in him," Hermione muttered. "He's really a decent guy and has a good head on his shoulders."

"I take it, then, that the he and Molly have not repudiated you as well?"

"No. They are outraged. Though to be fair, they are also outraged about what you did."

He shrugged. "Fair enough. Given that it wasn't entirely selfless, I can't claim to have merely rushed to the rescue."

"You mean you wouldn't have done it for, let's say, Lavender Brown?"

"Are you sure you have regained your full mental capacities that you even ask such a ridiculous question?" He looked downright horrified at the thought.

"I take that as a no." She grinned. "What am I supposed to write to Ron? I can't possibly put all my fury in a letter."

"Well, you can if you send him a Howler."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up. "I always wanted to do that, but I always lacked a recipient. Do you know the charm?"

"I do." He showed her the wand movement and incantation to charm the paper. "You only have to tap the letter once to start the recording, and another time to stop it. If you need to start over just do so. And please allow me to retreat from the tower before you do the actual ranting."

She grinned and thanked him.

"I trust you will be able to find the study afterwards? Meet me there when you're done."

Severus quickly retreated from the owlery, but not quick enough to not hear her yelling at the paper from a distance.

"Where the hell do you think I am, Ronald Bilius Weasley? I'm exactly where you sent me – with my new husband to whom you sold me for a galleon, you sick bastard! And you should pray that you will not see me anytime soon, because right now, I'm in a mood to hex your balls off and reattach them to your chin, so that the whole world can see just from looking at your face what an absolute ass you are! If you are still as clueless as I suspect, go to Harry or your father, they will enlighten you as to what a colossal cock-up you made of our marriage, you utter moron!"

Severus smirked. Nice. He really liked the part about the repositioning of Weasley balls. He needed to find out if such an operation was possible – hopefully, he could at least make it last until a healer managed to sort Ronald out.

They spent the next three days at the manor just waiting for the dust to settle while slowly adapting to their new roles as husband and wife.

Severus had suggested sending Turvy over to her house to collect Hermione's clothes and personal items. Given that both, the house and the elf, now belonged to her, it was a simple thing to do, though Hermione wouldn't have thought of it. Having elves at her command would take a while to get used to.

This evening, when Ronald would come home from work, he would find that all his former wife's personal belongings had magically vanished from their house, including all the books. Not that he would miss them. Hermione was happy to have her clothes back. Even so, she put on the dress Severus had transfigured for her once more, and informed him of her intention to take him with her as her stylist on her next shopping trip to Madam Malkins. After all, the robes made the witch, and dressing a bit more like a distinguished pureblood might help to get the traditionalists among the wizards take her more seriously.

Hermione told him that Ron wouldn't have approved. He found the more formal everyday robes snobbish and pretentious. Not that it had ever been an issue: they couldn't have afforded them anyway. Mostly, they had stuck to Muggle clothes, which were cheap and comfortable. Sadly, it wasn't possible to simply transfigure a simple cotton shirt into something as gorgeous as the robe Severus had made from his expensive, high quality frock coat. Severus agreed that it was a bit ironic given that it was possible to turn a hedgehog into a pincushion, something nobody ever needed in real life.

They talked a lot over these three days. Severus told her the long and rather dramatic story of how he had come into possession of the manor. Hermione told him about her marriage, the good and the bad times, and she cried – for the love and for all the years she had lost. Severus had offered her a handkerchief and a cup of tea, and when they had gone to their rooms much later, he kissed her good-night.

They carefully formulated their ideas about their future. Hermione wanted to pursue her career at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There were still so many old laws to review and re-adjust to modern society, the ridiculous marriage laws being the first to be repealed. Severus had taken to commercial brewing after the war, selling rare and expensive potions to a rather exclusive apothecary in Ireland. He also did a lot of research, working on developing new and improving existing potions. The considerable number of patents he held yielded a nice, yearly sum in royalties. He was also currently writing a new potions book for students as the ones available on the market were horribly outdated. This met with Hermione's full-hearted and enthusiastic approval.

She dived into his library, amazed at the many old and rare volumes to be found in the shelves, and they found out they both liked to listen to classical music while reading. He told her that he enjoyed cooking. Hermione admitted that she sucked at it. This evening, he made them roast-beef with Yorkshire pudding, Hermione's favourite, and they had apple pie for dessert.

They also spoke about the war. About Dumbledore's manipulations, about Harry, about some of what they had both experienced. They didn't dare share their darkest memories yet. Hermione never mentioned Malfoy Manor, and Severus didn't share what he had seen and done in the service to the Dark Lord. But maybe one day, they would know and trust each other enough to open themselves up to one another.

This evening she told him about her parents. How she had erased their memories of her and sent them away to Australia where they still lived oblivious to the fact that they had a daughter. She told him how guilty she felt for failing to restore their memories, and how much she missed them. This time, when she cried, Severus offered her his shoulder and promised that he would try his best to help her.

Then he had a cup of tea and Hermione a glass of the red wine he had found in the cellar, and they listened to Mozart. This evening, when it was time to go to bed, they both retreated into his room and Hermione rediscovered her long-lost passion in her new husband's arms. It would be so much more than a marriage of convenience, this time.