AN: Hello all, hope you are enjoying it so far. I'm uploading every day but after this Friday I'll be without Wi-Fi for a week, so next Saturday I will be uploading seven chapters. Thank you so much for the follows, favorites and reviews!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
Hermione froze. She was in a death eater's house, no matter if he was a spy, she knew not what kind of company he kept. It didn't help that she saw a look of thinly veiled panic as Snape turned towards the door.
He walked to the door and opened it, slowly. Hermione just barely heard a few biting whispers before the door closed again and Snape returned alone. He sat down, poised as ever.
"Do you often conduct business at the door?"
It was the only thing she could think of saying to break the awkward silence.
"Unless you wished Bellatrix Lestrange to come in and see you in my sitting room, I suggest you hold your tongue."
Hermione was shocked by the coldness in his voice, even though she should have expected it, and blushed from the scolding.
"Yes, Headmaster," She said.
He sighed and shook his head, conjuring up two cups of earl gray tea. Hermione took a sip and winced. It was both too hot and too strong, but not wanting to irritate the man, she kept quiet.
"Are you adept at occlumency?"
Hermione nodded in response.
Their eyes met and before she could fully engage her mental shields, he cast a silent legilimens.
She was looking through teary eyes at Ron and Lavender snogging after the Gryffindors won their quidditch game before it became too much and she bolted out of the common room at high speed.
She watched as Ron pulled out the gold ring and told her of his feelings.
She watched as they lay in that field, quickly getting out of their clothing and—
Her mental barriers slammed down.
"That was private." She bit out.
He only looked at her with an impassive face.
"Oh you were looking for something, right? You sick bastard, maybe Harry was right."
"Ms. Granger, you shut your mouth," he bellowed.
There was an awkward silence where Hermione didn't know whether or not she was going to be murdered on the spot. She heard the older man take a breath.
"You will need to learn how to speak properly if you are going to last long in this war. Not to mention your occlumency needs a vast amount of improvement before you're remotely ready to encounter even the weakest of legilimens. And to your question, no I was not trying to pry, I do not want to see my future wife" he physically choked on the word, "with another man, not to mention the youngest Weasley. The only worse choice would have been the Potter boy. No, I was only scanning surface level memories."
He gave her a condemning look and she immediately had felt guilty. She was thinking about her lover in front of her future husband. No matter how strange, vile, and barbaric the situation, Hermione still felt as if it was unspeakably rude.
He looked down at the ring she was still wearing on her left hand. Silently, he picked up his wand and preformed a detection spell Hermione was vaguely aware of.
"You may keep that," He gestured towards the ring, "The pitiful Weasley cast a protection spell on it. No matter how weak the boy is, he does love you, and intent matters most with spell work. If Albus was right about anything it is that love is the greatest power in the known universe, where magic is involved at least."
She nodded, listening intently and filing away questions for later. Her guard was up and she knew that now was not the best time for questions. There was another silence. She could not take them. Everything came so easy between her, Harry and Ron, the awkward silence was excruciating.
"So what's the plan?" She rushed out.
The dark man snorted and Hermione immediately felt self-conscience.
"Not that I'm eager," she continued, slurring her words and digging herself a deeper hole, "I just want to plan ahead."
He waited for her to finish and then waited a bit more. When she looked deeper into is facial expressions, she saw sadistic mirth just below his stony face.
"You're doing this on purpose, flustering me, making it awkward. You're torturing me."
"Oh Ms. Granger, even I have gone through worse torture than this."
His icy glare silenced her. She silently berated herself. She needed to be more guarded around her ex professor, or she would keep walking into these little traps.
"As to our plans," he continued, "We will be married this Wednesday—"
"That's so soon!"
"Are you really giving up anything? You're only torturing yourself waiting any longer. Kingsley has already informed Mrs. Weasley, who no doubt has begun preparations. I wasn't going to leave that unpleasant business to you, but seeing how you're behaving like an ungrateful chit," he paused, "Maybe I should have. No matter. After, you will be promptly escorted here, while your imbecilic friends go on their mission. When the school year starts you will be relocated to the headmaster's quarters, where you will have full range of the castle with Draco Malfoy as an escort. Wipe that look off your face. He owes me a life debt, if any harm comes to you, he knows he will die. Potter is unadvised to attend, but he will anyways, I'm sure. I've made Polyjuice and have a hair from a muggle that lives near here. Your parents—"
"That wont be necessary," Hermione interjected.
Snape gave her a questioning look, but said nothing. He reached into his robes, pulled out a vile of mud-colored potion and another of a couple hairs, and handed them to Hermione.
"That's everything then. You will not tell a soul about Albus asking me to kill him. I'll see you Wednesday."
He escorted her out of the building, depositing her on the sidewalk before turning back into his house. She stared after the tall man, but realizing she was out in the open, she apparated to the field just outside the burrow.
"That's so soon," Ron whispered, echoing her sentiment.
"You have to leave soon, Ron. The longer you wait the less time you have to look for the horcruxes."
"I know," He sighed, "I just want to make sure you're okay in all of this. I don't want you getting hurt."
"I'll be fine."
She put one hand on his shoulder and rubbed small circles into it.
"I am actually kind of glad you're not coming," Ron whispered.
"How could you ever say such a thing? I want to help, and it's not my fault that there is this law and that I have to do this or go to Azkaban, or worse."
"Hermione, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just happy you'll be safe inside Hogwarts with three square meals a day. I don't know what Harry and I are going to go through, but I know it's not something I want you to be there for."
"You don't have to protect me, Ronald. I can fend for myself. I am more than capable—"
"I know how capable you hare, Hermione!" He yelled, effectively silencing the girl, but he continued in a softer voice, "That doesn't mean I can stop myself from wanting you to be far far away from this danger."
"Thank you," she conceded.
He looked at her and tentatively pulled her into a hug. They sat there in silence, staring at the door. Neither wanted to let go and face the next three days.
"We have to stop this," Hermione whispered.
"No."
"We're both just going to get hurt doing this."
"I don't want to love anyone else."
"Ron, you have to move on."
"Hermione look at me. I don't think I would be capable of loving anyone else. I'll never move on."
"Promise me you will."
"Hermio—"
"Promise me!"
"Ok. I promise that if that greasy bastard doesn't die," he smirked at Hermione, "and I don't either, that I will try to move on."
Hermione was glad he promised to move on, but deep down inside she was even happier he said he could never love anyone else, no matter how selfish the thought.
When Wednesday dawned, Hermione felt sick to her stomach. She could not get out of bed. It felt like she couldn't breath. Everything was happening too fast. She was contemplating running away and risking Azkaban or execution, but then Ginny woke up and turned on the lights in their shared bedroom.
"Oh Hermione, we overslept!"
"No you overslept," she retorted, "I think I only slept an hour or two."
"But you're still in bed so it counts."
Hermione sighed and rolled out of bed, undoing her plait. She showered the night before to save the hassle. The dress laying on her trunk was foreboding, but she quickly slipped it on. It was light and floaty, it had been a dark blue, but she charmed it white.
"Why white?" Ginny asked.
"It's a muggle thing."
"Do you want to do make up?" The red head asked.
"I've never really worn makeup before. I'm not going to dress up for this monstrosity."
"Fine."
Ron burst through the doors.
"He's here."
