"I didn't know goblins could perform a binding."
The Banking Hall was dark and silent. Empty. But the thrum, the power, the awareness of the Bank was everywhere. Hermione rubbed at her wrist where the golden binding cord had chased over her skin only moments before.
She'd agreed. Of course she had. In a wild moment of knowing she could escape Ron, the Ministry, her job, her grey life, that Severus would be equally free and that they would have more money than they could roll in. Them. The shunned wizard. The bought witch.
Though had she simply sold herself in another way?
No, no, this was her choice.
They'd stood —barefoot and in plain, green shifts— in a bowl-like cave, the walls smoothed earth with the spark of minerals caught in the nine torches planted in the floor. The air was warm, heady and Hermione caught her hand in Severus', nervous and panicked that the contract would splinter their plan.
A deep pulse of sound thrummed through her feet and caught her breath.
"The Bank values you."
Hermione pressed her lips together and tried not to wonder if that was a very bad thing.
A goblin, dressed as they were in a plain shift that brushed the packed-earth floor, stepped into the light of the ring of torches. He lifted his palm and a matching pair of goblin-wrought rings gleamed in the flickers of fire. He jerked his pointed chin up. "I am Ironrake, Agent to the Shafiq Clause. Do you wish to rebind the tontine to your new line?"
Severus shook his head and the goblin's shoulders drooped. "I would let it rest, Ironrake. It has served its time."
"A great pity." Ironrake drew in a long breath. "You are here to comply with the last condition of the Clause. To secure an heir."
Hermione blinked. He wasn't suggesting that they had to…?
Severus squeezed her fingers and the slight shake of his head let her breathe again. No...conceiving in the bowels of the Bank. That was a relief, at least. Not that she was thinking about conception, or...or consummation—
"Hermione?" Severus dark eyes, sparked with golden fire fixed on her. "You can step away—"
"No, no."
She squared her shoulders and took a step closer to him. Severus' scent surrounded her, hints of herbs and parchment mixing with the soft earthy aroma of the chamber and she breathed him in. It eased her. He eased her. She pressed her hand to his chest and the solid thump of his heart beat under her palm. Real. Tangible. The heat of him, the line of firm muscle. And gods, her face was suddenly so very hot...
Severus' hand covered hers and his dark gaze was soft. "I promise you, my soon-to-be-wife, that we will make them pay. All of them. Through the nose. Or any orifice of your choice."
Hermione snorted a laugh. "Of that I have no doubt."
"Are you ready?"
Ironrake's sharp voice cracked over them and they turned as one to face the sour-faced creature.
"You enter willingly into a contract with each other to secure blood and profit?"
Hermione flicked a glance to Severus and the corner of his mouth twitched. It was a bald, if true, statement. She jerked a nod and murmured "We do" after Severus' firm saying of the words. He squeezed her fingers again. Her belly did a little flip. This man. This wizard till the end of her days. Beyond money and revenge, gods it felt...right. Tea and potions and laughter and endless dark eyes and clever hands and the memory of his firm chest that still burned a wanted shape under her fingers—
"By agreement to fulfil the final condition in the Shafiq Clause, the Bank agrees, as a sign of placed value, to open up Severus Snape of the House of Prince and Shafiq, to profits of said Clause. Namely the profits garnished from his own monies and in addition, the property in Belgravia." Ironrake's dark eyes narrowed. "Agreed?"
Severus nodded. "The Bank honours me —us— with its value. Agreed."
Hermione sucked in a shaking breath and twin ribbons of gold wound out from the rings on Ironrake's palm to snake a warm spiral along their wand arms. The rings spun towards them in the wake of gold and settled on the index finger of her right hand, matching Severus'.
A short smile grazed Ironrake's thin lips and his open palm closed into a fist. "You are one. Bound together under the protection of the Bank, all previous contracts, all binds, all old and new vows…wither."
Free. She, they, even as they were bound, they were free.
A flow of magic teased and flowed under her skin, warm and deep, ancient and Hermione's heart drummed, her breaths short. It pricked every inch of her skin, chasing from the roots of her hair down, down and sinking away to fade through the soles of her bare feet.
She sagged and found Severus' strong arms holding her up. His smirk curved against her forehead. "Not your usual wedding vow."
"No…"
"You will present your heir to the Bank a year from today to satisfy all conditions." Ironrake's eyes sparked and his thin lips twitched upwards. "Though, you are a Potions Master of some renown, Master Snape, your reputation preceding you even to the Goblin Nation. The Bank would look...favourably upon you, your kin and your...pursuits if the matter was settled at your earliest convenience."
Severus stilled and Hermione closed her eyes, a sourness chasing away the warmth of their binding.
Ironrake was proposing a strong fertility potion. Recommended it.
And logically, Hermione knew, knew that would always be the way they had to go. Just not so…fast.
Fuck, her friendship with Severus was precious. She didn't want their...their marriage to ruin it.
Hermione stared at great doors that opened onto Diagon Alley. They swung back, creaking and the spill of magical torchlight and the spin of sharp, cold air made everything suddenly very real. She was married. Married to Severus. And they had to… She had to…
"Hermione..."
Severus' voice was quiet and something lurked under it. Resignation. No, no…
"It's not you. It's me." She cursed at those trite words. "I mean… Shit." She winced, some schoolgirl part of her still wary of swearing in front of a teacher. Former teacher. Friend. Now husband. She grabbed his lax hand and threaded her small fingers through his long, pale ones. "I've never…" She screwed up her eyes, breathed, then willed her gaze up to meet his. The blank wall of occlumency dulled the blackness. Yes, right, he was protecting himself. "I have never had sex."
The blank shield shattered. "Dear gods, Hermione, why didn't you say? I would never…" He tugged her back. "Come, this can be annulled."
She stumbled forward, but jerked back, too aware that they were having a tug-of-war in the bank's entrance. The chance of witnesses was slim, but still… "No. I am not breaking this bind. No. We need to go somewhere private."
His mouth tight, Severus marched from the bank, his hand in hers...and a moment of fierce, tight disapparation later, they stood on the short front path of his little cottage. He released her hand and the chill winds rushed a shiver over her. She flexed her fingers and stuck her hand in her coat pocket.
"Tea?"
"I think we need something a lot stronger."
She shook her head. "No, I want to be clear headed...later."
Severus broke into a vicious run of curses and stormed into his house.
Hermione stared after him.
No carrying her over the threshold, then.