AUTHOR NOTE: Holy Guacamole! I was not expecting the amount of response to this fic when I posted chapter one! LOL. I'm seriously so thrilled that so many of you are interested in reading this one =) I can't wait to see what you make of what I have planned for this story. Also, for those few of you rolling your eyes at the idea of me beginning ANOTHER new story when I have so many incomplete ones; No one said that you had to read it. I go where the muse takes me and right now my muse is all about Severus. And honestly, if you know how many stories I have squirrelled away on my computer and not shared for the reason that you'll all cry foul, you'd be grateful I've only posted one new one this week instead of 20.
A HUGE HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY SHOUT OUT TO ALL OF MY DEVOTED READERS. I LOVE YOU ALL!
Limerence Laws
By Kittenshift17
CHAPTER TWO
Severus exploded into his private quarters snarling every expletive he knew. His magic was crackling and snapping furiously in the air, making the flames in the fireplace leap and burning the candles high enough that the wax poured down the edges rapidly.
Hermione fucking Granger and Sirius fucking Black!
He was expected to marry his most annoying student and his most loathed childhood tormenter. He had to put down his wand to keep from destroying all of his personal possession in a fit of rage. He hadn't been this angry in a long time. Not since he'd heard Black had escaped Azkaban. Not since the Dark Lord had broken his word and murdered Lily Evans after expressly promising Severus that he would spare her. Not since he'd learned it had been Pettigrew, the snivelling cunt of a rat, who was truly responsible for selling Lily out to the Dark Lord in the first place.
Running his fingers through his greasy hair and cursing foully when they tangled in the wretched locks, Severus tried to think about this logically. He tried to talk himself out of the rage that found him picking up his liquor decanter – rarely touched except on nights when it took away the ache of suffering the Cruciatus curse and dulled the wretched emptiness inside his chest – and began downing the liquid in one. It burned his throat going down but even the early hour of the morning – not yet nine – did nothing to cease Severus's actions as he drank deeply of the finely brewed and well-aged liquor.
He wanted to murder both of them. He almost wanted to turn his wand on himself. Circe's cunt, at this point he'd even welcome the idea of being stripped of his magic and left a bereft as pathetic muggle, barely living. It couldn't be worse than marrying Granger and Black.
Black! Of all fucking people.
Severus didn't need to be a genius to figure out the common traits between himself and his loathed nemesis. Long dark hair, intense personalities, quick wit and a similar build told tales of Miss Granger's tastes, though how anyone could even begin to compare the two of them beyond similar hairstyles and body-types was beyond Severus. He was learned, volatile, intellectual and dark. Black was the opposite. He'd never applied himself to study. He was easy-going, fun-loving, more prone to goofing off and wasting time that to engaging in intellectual debate.
They were complete opposites in every way. Clearly Miss Granger had proven herself no better than her empty-headed classmates and only sought infatuation amid the shallowest of pools. Severus was not fool enough to think that he and Black were even similar in appearance beyond both having long black hair. Severus was entirely aware of the misfortune that was his nose and the crooked, yellowed squares that were his teeth. He was completely aware that no matter how frequently he washed it, his hair was usually greasy again by the end of the day as a result of spending all his time in Potions classrooms and his own private lab where the fumes undid any effort to keep it grease-free.
He was, in a word, unappealing. In both personality and appearance. No matter how Miss Lovegood liked to insist he was striking.
Black, on the other hand.
Well, even Severus was man enough to admit that, nemesis or not, the man possessed a certain soigné. Angular features cut from pure marble, silky flowing locks of raven and those wretched Black-bloodline eyes of silver gave way to making the man one of the handsomest to have ever walked the halls of Hogwarts. Azkaban may have dulled his physical appeal, somewhat, but it still remained with higher proclivity than Severus himself had ever possessed. Black didn't have a hooked slash for a nose, or crooked teeth or a sneer that could curdle milk. Something he'd seen fit to rub in, often, during their youth.
No, Black was all easy charm and good looks where Severus had always been cold wit and sneering expressions. They had nothing in common. Moreover, Black was a wretch and Severus would happily commit murder to be rid of the mangy cur. He was also a complication. Secreted away in the hovel masquerading for Headquarters and bitching about his continued incarceration, Black was a nuisance during the Order meetings Severus was forced to attend, and little more. If, however, Severus was expected to marry both Black and Granger, they would also be expected to share a marital 'home'.
And since Severus himself was a Professor and Miss Granger was a still a student, it stood to reason that to meet the ordinance, Black would be required move in with Severus himself. Were it simply a requirement towards dwelling, Severus might have coped. After all, unpleasant as they may have been, he'd survived seven years of sharing this castle and its corridors with Sirius bloody Black. He could've handled stuffing Black away in some forgotten tower. Without a need to attend classes, the mutt wouldn't even be a bother in the halls. He couldn't move about freely without stirring the masses to reporting his location.
Severus curled his lip when his mind poked a hole in that sound plot.
They were expected to share quarters and share a wife. Miss Granger. And it wouldn't do to have her catting back and forth across the castle to fuck either one of her husbands, and sweet Circe's cunt! He was going to have to fuck the little bitch!
The decanter Severus was still drinking from as his thoughts raced shattered in his grip, showering him in slivers of glass and fire-whiskey.
No.
He wouldn't.
He couldn't.
It was wrong. It was disgusting. It was…
Severus clenched the shards of glass from the decanter when his traitorous thoughts landed on one word he had never thought in relation to any woman before.
Ensnaring.
Blood dripped from his fingers and pitter-pattered upon the cold stone floor of his private chambers as Severus Snape realised that with one letter of condemnation, the Ministry of Magic had done what no witch had ever achieved; made him think of one of his students in any manner beyond a dunderheaded inconvenience.
The sound of knocking on the door to his private chambers drew his attention and Severus briefly considered committing irusu. He was in no mood for company, pleasant or otherwise, lest he unleash his rage and murder someone. And he had a wretched sinking feeling in his gut that he knew which someone it would be that would dare to knock on his door when such an edict had been delivered on this dreadful morning.
Waving his wand to remove the shards of glass and splashes of alcohol from his person, Severus stalked to the door and snatched it open with a snarl.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Hermione fought the urge to take a big step back from the Professor when he snatched open the door, a hateful sneer in place upon his lips as he laid eyes on her. Her eyes darted to the fact that his hand was dripping blood on the floor where he stood, seeping from between the fingers of his clenched fist.
"Potter?" he snarled, his eyes scanning over Hermione hatefully before darting to the wizard standing behind her.
"Professor," Harry replied, his voice barely containing his hostility towards the man before Hermione. The man she'd been ordered to marry within the week.
"What's the matter, Miss Granger?" Snape sneered icily. "Too afraid to come to you intended husband unaccompanied?"
Hermione felt the first prickle of anger slide through her veins, heady and thick like the whiskey she could smell on his breath.
"Harry is here to make use of your Floo," Hermione retorted coldly, squaring her shoulders and staring down the furious wizard before her. "He was matched to Remus and Tonks. Since you and I will be needing to make a trip to Headquarters, I invited Harry to join us as I do not doubt that Tonks will make for Headquarters as soon as she receives her own letter from the Ministry."
"You imagine you can help yourself to my private quarters whenever you please? Inviting guests?" Snape asked, his voice loweringly to a deceptively silken purr that made every hair upon her body stand on end.
"I imagined you would be mature enough to recognise the sense of the idea," Hermione replied, refusing to be cowed, even if she did watch his lip curl further in a triumphant sneer at the sight of her goose-bumps.
She could tell it was her implication that he would be acting childishly to refuse them entrance and use of his fireplace that convinced him to let them in. Stepping back in the doorway, he made just enough room for her to squeeze past and Hermione felt her heart race in fear over the idea of entering Snape's private sanctum. Something he was obviously banking on when his lips twitched toward a cold smirk. Narrowing her eyes on the man, Hermione bit the bullet and slid past him, having no choice but to brush against the front of his dark teaching robes as she did so.
Harry followed her, being granted slightly more space, though Hermione suspected that was born of Snape's desire to avoid touching Harry, rather than any real courtesy. Hermione watched enviously as Harry made directly for the fireplace, not even bothering to take in his surroundings within the Potion Master's dungeon chambers. He found the small pot filled with Floo powder, scooped out a pinch of it, stepped into the flames and disappeared in a roar of green.
Hermione made to follow him but before she could, Snape's hand shot out to prevent her front taking a step forwards. Darting her gaze over her shoulder to find out why he was restraining her, Hermione met his fathomless gaze for a long moment, holding her breath as she waited to see what he wanted. She blinked when, with his bloodied hand, he pointed toward the shattered remains of a liquor decanter on the floor, right where she'd been about to step.
"Professor?" Hermione asked in a small voice when he released her to flick his wand at the glass and repair it.
"Miss Granger, given the circumstances, your continued use of that address hardly seems appropriate," he informed her coolly, turning cold eyes on her.
"I… erm… yes, I suppose you're right," Hermione stammered, blinking at the bluntness of his statement. "What… erm… what would you prefer to have me call you then, sir?"
"Not 'sir' either, witch," he muttered. "It's bad enough being aware of your immaturity without being reminded that until this morning, you were a student within my classroom."
Hermione nodded, her cheeks flaming.
"You are aware, I suppose, that this turn of events – this match – is entirely your fault?" he clarified before giving her anything more appropriate to call him. Hermione doubted very much that, even with permission, she would ever be comfortable calling him Severus.
"I…" Hermione blinked again, her cheeks growing impossibly hotter. "I erm… I didn't mean for this to happen."
"Clearly!" he retorted coldly, staring her down until Hermione felt forced to divert her gaze.
She glanced around his quarters curiously, noticing that they had obviously been decorated with one thing in mind. Practicality. Every wall was covered, floor to ceiling, with shelves containing potions ingredients, books, and potions equipment. The small bed inside the bedroom through a door off what she supposed was meant to be a sitting room, was cramped and looked like it would barely contain the Professor by himself, let alone anyone else.
"I do hope my chambers are to your liking, Miss Granger," he sneered, obviously noticing her scrutiny.
"I erm… why?" Hermione frowned, returning her gaze to his.
"As of the date we are married, they will also become your chambers, witch."
Hermione felt like she might throw up. The bile rose again and she clutched at her throat, making a vague choking sound as she tried to fight down the vomit. She would be expected to live with him. Him and Sirius. Dear Thanatos, she was doomed. Two extremely volatile wizards who loathed each other sharing one small space? She might as well hex herself now to save them the trouble when she was caught in the crossfire later.
"Ah, hadn't thought that far ahead, then?" Snape's laugh was cold and cruel.
Hermione hated the sound of it. In fact, the very sound of his laughter made her want to curl into a ball and cry. This was not at all what she imagined when she'd pictured herself looking at her future husband.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Sirius looked up from the bottle of whiskey at the sound of the Floo roaring to life. He trained his wand in that direction until he recognised the sight of his godson stepping out of it looking rather shell-shocked.
"Pup?" Sirius asked, shooting to his feet and moving to embrace the kid as Harry stumbled out of the fireplace.
"Sirius!" Harry greeted him, hugging him tightly in return
Sirius felt the tension in the air spike as he let Harry go again and glanced at Remus where he stood, rooted of the spot, staring wide-eyed at Harry as though he'd made to automatically hug the kid before recalling they'd been ordered to marry. Another reason Sirius was more than halfway through his first bottle of firewhiskey for the day.
"Remus?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed slightly as he moved toward the werewolf slowly. "You alright, mate?"
"Are you?" Remus asked, his brow furrowed in a line of pained confusion as he stared at the kid, so like James, yet so different from him too.
"Fucking furious!" Harry replied. "The Ministry are bang, out of order with this bullshit! I mean, pairing Hermione and Sirius with Snape? That's fuckin' twisted."
Sirius watched Remus's expression twist slightly at Harry words and smirked to himself for a moment, pleased to be proved right. He'd been assuring Remus since they'd opened their letters that Harry wouldn't care one way or the other that Remus was a werewolf.
"You're not angry that you've been matched with Tonks… with me?" Remus asked carefully.
"Why would I be angry?" Harry scoffed. "Tonks is great, and you're a great bloody git, but I'm used to you. Better than what poor Padfoot got himself landed with. Oi, you going to stand there like a statue all day or are you going to hug me?"
Remus looked beyond confused when Harry closed the distance between the two of them, wrapped his arms around Remus's torso and slapped him on the back good naturedly. Sirius began to laugh before handing his bottle of whiskey to Harry and watching the lad drink from it deeply, skolling the liquid inside until only a quarter of the bottle remained.
"Fuck! That shit burns!" Harry cursed again. "I don't know how you drink it, Pads."
"Harry, you do realise that by the end of the week you'll be my husband, don't you?" Remus asked, Moony peeking out of his eyes as man and wolf regarded the teenaged wizard.
"Hardly the time for getting awkward about hugs then, is it?" Harry smirked at the werewolf. "Oi, you heard from Tonks? She's going to laugh her arse off when she hears about this."
"I…" Remus shook his head. "No, not yet. Though I anticipate a lot of screaming when she arrives."
"You've got to do something about your mother's portrait Sirius," Harry agreed, frowning a bit and obviously thinking that Remus meant only the portrait and not Tonks. "Oh, and you better watch yourself, mate. Pretty sure Hermione and Snape are on their way through as well and he's beyond furious. Set his letter on fire and nearly caused an earthquake in the Great Hall when he got the news."
"Bloody hell!" Sirius groaned. "I'm not in the mood to see Snivellus again so soon."
"You realise that he'll be your husband and that if you keep calling him that, poor Hermione will be a widow before the month is out, yeah?" Remus asked gruffly, drinking deeply from his whiskey bottle until it was empty and not even looking rattled.
The perks of lycanthropy.
"Don't bloody remind me," Sirius groaned, also necking what was left in his bottle before reaching for the crate of them he'd hauled up out of the cellar.
He passed a bottle to Remus and another to Harry before cracking a third open for himself.
"How's Hermione taking the news?" Sirius asked of his godson.
"She…" Harry frowned. "She's terrified, I think. You and Snape in the same living space? The same marital bond? Pretty sure she's mentally drafting her will and testament as we speak. If you and the greasy git don't kill her for the 'infatuation' that landed you lot in this mess with her together in the first place, I'm pretty sure she's terrified you'll try to kill each other and she'll be caught in the crossfire."
"Fuck," Sirius sighed. "You saw that bit, eh? About the living quarters bullshit."
"Ginny pointed it out," Harry nodded, "We're all supposed to sharing living quarters with our new spouses. Actually, Moony, I need to talk to you about that."
"You lot can all move in here," Sirius offered. "There's plenty of room. And I'm less likely to murder Snivellus with you and Moony around, Pup."
"Except that I have school. Hermione has school. And Snape's got to teach," Harry pointed out. "Makes more sense for you to move there."
"Oi, that's bang out of order. He can't expect her to sit in his fucking classroom and be screamed at in front of everyone if she messes up at Potions," Sirius exclaimed, ignoring mention of him having to move to be closer to Hermione and Snivellus, outraged suddenly when he recalled that despite her academic brilliance, Snape was technically Hermione's teacher.
"Hermione's never been screamed at, in any class." Harry rolled his eyes. "But I don't reckon it will go down real well to have her continue to be a student while he's still a teacher. Good grades all her life or not, Hermione's reputation will be tarnished if they think she's fucking her teacher for her grades. And according to these stupid laws, she's got to fuck him."
"Ah, shit," Sirius put his head in hands. "She's your age, Pup. And I have to fuck her too."
"At least you don't have to fuck Harry, Pads, shut your hole!" Moony growled irritably, the approaching full moon combining with his bad mood over the news to make his touchy about everything.
"Hey, now! I don't care how much Tonks begs, you and I don't fuck, Moony." Harry waggled a finger between the two of them. "I'll fuck her with you, and I'll even snog you, if you're into that, but if you put your cock anywhere near my arse, I'm going to cut it off and beat you with it."
Remus choked on his swig of whiskey and spluttered at Harry, wide-eyed for his blunt approach to the subject.
"Bloody hell, Pup!" Sirius laughed. "I didn't know you swung that way."
"I don't, really," Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Figured you two did, actually?"
He quirked an eyebrow at the pair of them from behind his glasses and Sirius began to roar with laughter.
"You think we're getting drunk to drown the sorrow of our forced break-up?" Remus asked, smirking just a bit as he tried not to laugh.
"Dunno," Harry admitted. "You're pretty close, so I figured you must be a couple."
"You and Ron are close," Sirius argued. "Are you a couple?"
"No. But I've never woken up nakedly spooning Ron, either. Which I know you two have done, countless times, with each other," Harry pointed out, drinking deeply form his own bottle too.
"After full moons," Sirius waved a dismissive hand at his godson. "And when we get drunk it doesn't count."
"I've heard that excuse before," Harry smirked, winking at Remus and bouncing his eyebrows suggestively in a way that made Sirius laugh even more
"When we get drunk he crawls into next to me because he's afraid of the dark," Remus corrected, smirking at him. "I can't wait to hear the story about when he tries to do it to Snivellus."
"Urgh, I'd never spoon Snivellus. Sharing quarters will be hard enough. I won't be sharing his fuckin' bed."
"You might not have a choice," Harry argued. "Rules say they monitor through the rings how often we all fuck. Might get in trouble if you're not sharing a bed too… So you two aren't bent for each other?"
"Nah." Sirius laughed. "We've snogged but it never went any further."
"I ran when he got tricky with his tongue," Remus admitted, laughing. "So don't worry Harry, I have no plans of bending you over and fucking you."
"Not that you're any keener of doing it to Tonks," Harry smirked. "How's that going to play out, Moony?"
Remus groaned and began necking another bottle at the reminder of the third part of his marriage equation. Harry watched with appreciation as the werewolf chugged the bottle until it was gone.
"How many of them has he had?" Harry asked of Sirius watching the way Moony reached for a fourth without looking even a bit drunk.
"When he cracks that bottle, it'll be his fourth. By himself," Sirius grinned.
"It's not even ten o'clock yet," Harry said, his eyes widening.
"Don't you go whining like you're the wife in the equation, Pup," Remus growled as he cracked open the fourth bottle of whiskey. "Leave the bitching to Tonks, yeah?"
Sirius was still laughing at the way Harry flipped Remus the forks when the Floo roared to life once more.