Chapter 3: The Interview
When Hermione showed up at Professor Snape's office door that evening she was feeling a bit faint. She couldn't be sure if that was because she had hardly been able to eat anything that day due to her growing anxiety over the interview with her soul mate or if it was simply the prospect of the soul mate being Professor Snape.
She did some research in the library that afternoon, learned a bit about the potion used in the chocolates, and wasn't very happy with the outcome.
Most of the day passed while she came up with increasingly complex and painful ways to make the twins suffer. Hermione was sure even they would be impressed with her ingenuity—when they eventually recovered.
Feeling as though she would fly apart if she didn't get into Professor Snape's office, but afraid he would flay her alive when she walked in, Hermione stood at the door for a long moment before giving into her longing to see him. Professor Snape sat behind the desk, his hands clasped together on what looked like Fred and George's letter. which sat open on top. His eyes were hooded and scanning her. Hermione wasn't sure if the look was one of interest or simply an attempt to find the best way to cut her to the quick.
Normally, the second possibility would undoubtedly be the true answer, but that was before the Soul Mate Potion came into play. Everything she was experiencing now was without precedence in her experience. Just the sight of him was enough to increase the effects of the potion. Hermione longed to run into his arms, but worried that would be suicide. Just call me Sybill, it's like I have two different people inside me. "Here I am, sir," she said as the door shut behind her. He hadn't said anything yet and it made her nervous. Usually he was far from reticent about his thoughts and feelings, especially the negative ones.
Professor Snape slid one long, thin finger down his lips to rest on his chin, appearing deep in thought. Hermione stood, feeling as though she were under a microscope—if only wizards had those. "Sit down, Miss Granger," he finally said after nearly a full minute had passed.
Hermione wasted no time following his directive and took one of the hard wooden chairs opposite him.
"Am I to understand then that the Weasley twins are responsible for the . . . circumstances we are involved in? I'm assuming you did some research today." She nodded and he continued, "You found no cure then? No way to defeat the power of the potion, aside from the inane suggestion Mr. Weasley made?" It seemed more a statement than a question. He knew there was no solution.
She shook her head. "As far as I can tell, and I spent a couple hours today searching, it is impossible to break. I haven't given up searching but, well." It hurt that he was fighting so hard against the enchantment, even though Hermione knew she was no happier about it than he was. Holding a man in high regard is not the same as wanting to be in love with him. At the same time she was in love with him, even if by artificial means, which made it imperative to move a little closer. The desk between them seemed as wide as a lake and twice as impossible to cross. With great restraint she held herself to the chair.
Snape seemed to understand her point, though she hadn't finished it. He stood from his desk, turning his back on her to look over the tomes lining the shelf behind him. "What have you learned, exactly?"
"Amoriata, also known as the Soul Mate Potion, was developed in the year 1327 by Heloise Madrigore as she wanted to be able to find her true love. She was growing older and hated being alone. She felt the potion would help her cut down her list of suitors to find the one man she should spend eternity with. It took her two years of redosing herself weekly before she found her soul mate, only to learn he was already married. She died three years later, driven insane by not being able to be with the man.
"Over the centuries the potion was occasionally used with more or less success. Its use was widely discontinued a couple hundred years ago due to the tendency for unrequited loves driving the users insane. Why more of them didn't just dose their loves I wasn't able to figure."
The silence was deafening as Hermione waited for her professor to respond to her recitation. She glanced around the walls at the grotesque pictures of those injured by the dark arts and shuddered.
When Snape turned to face her, she knew he was not happy. "My research picked up your points plus a little more. If you look at those known to have imbibed the potion, none of them have lived more than a few years without their soul mate. None. Whether the soul mate lived a separate life or died from other circumstances, the dosed member of the couple didn't live long." He let that hang in the air, his face a blank mask as he stared at her with obsidian eyes.
After a lengthy pause, he continued slowly. "I may not have more than a few days, or months left to live, but you are young and full of potential. What the twins have done to you is inexcusable. I'll grind them into potions ingredients." His face turned savage with this last sentence.
It thrilled her that his concern seemed more for her welfare than his own. "You'll have to beat me to it." The glint of anger in his eye, far from terrifying her as it once would have, only made her longing to be in his arms strengthen. The thought that he didn't expect to live out the war angered and terrified her as well. Now that she had found him, she wanted to get to know him better, longed to be by his side always. She was terrified at the thought that her own life expectancy might be so short. Not that she hadn't acknowledged the low chance of her surviving the fight against Voldemort. Still, the twins would be paying. Highly.
He quirked an eyebrow and she got the impression he was amused by her response. He walked around the desk and took a couple steps in her direction. "Miss Granger, I find we have come to an impass. You are a student here, I a teacher. To answer the potion's mandate would certainly put the relationship in dangerous territory." He drew slowly closer, and she could see his eyes dilating, the hunger in his expression. She felt her own grow in response.
He continued, "Yet, I had to struggle to focus today, knowing you were only a few floors away, and you do have my class tomorrow. It is unlikely I—"
Unable to help herself, she reached out and let her fingers brush the back of his hand.
That seemed all the impetus he needed. "Oh, sod it all. George had the right idea." He swept her into his arms and pressed a savage kiss to her lips.
Hermione felt the rush of emotion all the way down to her toenails as she slid her hands under his teaching robes and grasped the jacket beneath, pulling him even closer as she returned his kiss with equal fervor. She'd kissed before, boys, but had never felt anything a tenth as strong as what she currently felt in Severus Snape's arms.
His arms slithered around her back, pulled her solidly against him as he plundered her mouth, tilted his head further to the side, and took some more. As she gave, her mind too thick to think, what little control she had previously possessed shattered. Nothing she'd experienced, nothing she'd read, had prepared her for this one moment of bliss. The need for more raged within her, and she wondered if she would drown completely before they were through.
"Oh my dear, Hermione," Snape said as he pulled back to place a hundred kisses across her face and neck. "I thought that was supposed to ease things but instead—"
"It's only getting worse," Hermione supplied before she found his lips and dived in again.
Several more minutes passed as they clawed their way closer, their robes nothing but a hindrance in their frenzy. To Hermione's surprise, they were both still fully clothed when Snape pried her away him. She had no clue how she had managed to rest one hand on the skin of his neck and he had pulled her blouse from her skirt to caress the bare skin of her back.
"Don't. You must . . . . Sit." He finally ended his garbled sentence and moved back until they were no longer touching. "Let's just give that a few minutes to see if it helped any. I need my wits about me, can't go on this way." He turned his back to her, put a couple more feet between them, running a hand through his long, black hair.
Though Hermione knew his hair was greasy and heavy, she wished she could be the one to play with his dark tresses. She imagined the strands would be silky beneath her hand. As the long moment passed, however, she felt herself begin to equalize again. Her brain began to clear, and her heart stopped dancing the polka in her chest. When she felt enough in control to return to her seat, she did so.
Snape turned around, his eyes looking much calmer than they had when she first entered the office. He returned to his seat behind the desk. Hermione felt a trickle of annoyance as she suspected the move was made simply to return them to their teacher/student roles. She found the idea of pretending none of this had happened utterly ridiculous.
"That seems to have helped somewhat," he said calmly, his hands clasped on the desk again. "Now that we have that much out of our systems, we need to discuss the future."
Feeling his rejection down to the bone, Hermione let her shoulders droop. "What future? You've already determined we won't have one, haven't you?"
His voice returned to its usual grating irritation. "Though part of me is strenuously opposed to my putting space back between us, I believe we both know now is not the time to get tangled in something. I don't want to want you. This little prank could have cost me my life before the Dark Lord last night."
She felt stricken by the news. "Oh, sir, is that why you looked so tired this morning? I'm so sorry." Now that she had touched him, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him. It was little wonder so many loves left behind simply withered away if they felt as she did now. Though the connection to him had been strong before, after their kiss, the power of it was overwhelming, even if she could think a bit clearer now.
"I do not need or want your pity, Miss Granger. Thankfully he didn't spend much time on me last night, and I was able to keep my Occlumency shield up for the short time. If we don't get this compulsion under control, I may not be so lucky another time." His voice was harsh, as she had heard it many times before, his eyes flashed with anger and disgust. "I need only know what kind of time frame we have to work around this before the situation becomes desperate."
"Desperate?"
Irritation flashed across his face again. "I am not in the habit of bedding down my students, Miss Granger, nor would the Headmaster appreciate it if I made an exception in this case. You are a child, no matter how my libido may respond to you."
The bald statement was enough to make Hermione wince. She'd never thought of him bedding down anyone ever until the previous day. During the long hours since, she had repeatedly wondered what such an experience would be like. She had no experience beyond heavy kissing and had a healthy curiosity for what came next, though she didn't consider herself ready to deal with the whole of it. Not yet. "No, sir, I am not a child. I turned seventeen last September. I'm of age."
"Semantics, Miss Granger." He waved a hand, indicating her being of age didn't change her childhood status in his eyes.
"There don't seem to be firm guidelines on this area, sir. I doubt most people make much of a study of the potion, considering the results. One would have to be mad to undertake it themselves."
"For if they weren't already, they would certainly become so." The words were barely more than a murmur as he spoke to himself more than her.
After a short time he looked up at her, his face serious. "I'm afraid, Miss Granger, I can promise you no future and am very likely to earn your eternal hatred. Yes, you can hardly believe so now, can you? Though I support Dumbledore's cause, and that will not change regardless of what's to come, I think it highly likely you will soon develop an enduring dislike of me—even stronger than the hate you already carry." He ran a hand along his jaw line, as if pulling the thoughts from deep inside. "Yet, though I am destined to lose you, and thereby we may both be driven mad with need, I am a jealous man by nature. It would be rather in your best interest not to court any other man's attention. In this case," he paused to roll his eyes and frown, "any boy's attention as it will undoubtedly call my wrath upon you both."
Hermione pursed her lips, then nodded her understanding. It hardly seemed possible at this point that she would even notice another male, so caught up was she in the enchantment between them. "Yes, sir, I would make the same comment except I doubt that should you find yourself in such an opportunity, I would ever know. But, I don't like to share, either."
"I suppose then, I will offer to have our relationship, if you can call it such, remain mutually exclusive for the time being. I imagine that would be acceptable to you."
She nodded, fidgeted with the bottom of her skirt and uncrossed her legs, re-crossing them the other direction. "And I don't hate you. I never have."
"I know how the students see me." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm sure you were horrified at the thought that I, that we, well. There's no need to dissemble."
"I wouldn't, not with you. I haven't really liked you much, granted, but I don't hate you. You're a brilliant Potion master, have really taught us a lot in defense class. I admire your brain and ingenuity. You may be surly and bad tempered, but you have your reasons."
Professor Snape blinked in surprise, then his expression grew unreadable again, though he said nothing.
"I have a question," she said after a moment.
"Of course you do." The comment was spoken with resignation, but his manner didn't discourage her.
"Professor Slughorn told us at the first of the year that a love potion can't create love, they only create a temporary obsession. It doesn't seem so temporary at the moment."
With far more patience than she had ever thought to see him display in answering one of her questions, the professor nodded. "This one doesn't create love, it only exposes it. At least, that's the theory behind it. Madrigore dosed herself for two years before meeting her true love. If it created something, surely she would have found someone else in that time period. In theory, the potion works only with the potential within us. But again, extensive studies have not been conducted on it."
"So if it is based on potential, is there more than one person out there for us? If it hadn't been you I touched first, could it have been someone else here?"
"Been panting after Mr. Goyle, have we?" The acerbic question was far more in keeping with Hermione's experience with the man.
She huffed in irritation as both disgust and indecipherable jealousy shot through her. "Eww. Don't even say things like that."
He shifted in his seat and tipped his head, a calculating look in his eye. "And would your response to me have been so different only two days ago if someone had suggested you would fall for me?"
Hermione tried to be honest, to think without the haze of potion interfering with her thoughts. It was no easy feat. She wet her lips with her tongue and noticed the way his eyes tracked the movement. It sent a thrill through her that this virile man was so interested in her, even if it wasn't by his choice. "I certainly never thought of you in that way before, but at least I respected you. I can't say the same for Goyle. He's nothing more than a thug with an IQ of thirty-five." She considered asking the question of him in return, but was certain she didn't want to hear the answer. His expression didn't change when he heard her words, so she decided to get the discussion back on track. "About the potential for multiple possibilities?"
Severus shrugged, a singularly strange action for him. "It hasn't been studied enough to know. It's impossible to find out. Perhaps if neither of us had been dosed for a decade, our soul mates would be different, as we would have been different then. Or perhaps there is only one soul mate for us each. If we never met them, but we continued to look only for them, the potion could have an adverse reaction. Maybe with enough doses we would pine for that one, unknown person until we withered away, regardless of never finding them. There's no way to be certain."
Hermione nodded, then winced as another thought crossed her mind. "What will you tell the Headmaster? Will you tell him? I couldn't stand it if he sacked you."
Severus Snape merely shook his head. "I don't know. I must tell him something. He's already harboring so many of my secrets, I doubt one more will make much difference." He spoke slowly, his eyes averted as though pained by the thought of his secrets. "If I didn't tell him and he found out later . . . it would be a great betrayal of trust. I will have to talk to him soon."
He continued, "The research I did on this situation indicated that proximity and touch, even innocent ones, can keep the compulsion at bay. Spending time together and getting to know one another are supposed to help. I don't suppose there's much you would like to know about me, and certainly not much I care to share, but we'll have to work something out. I'll speak with the Headmaster about it. This situation must remain our secret for now. None else must know, especially your friends Potter and Weasley."
"Definitely not them. That would be a complete fiasco." Hermione could only imagine the response she would get from Harry and Ron. There was no one Harry hated worse than Professor Snape, not even the Dark Lord himself. No, the last thing she needed was to bring them into it.
"Quite. You should tell them . . . you spoke back to me at our meeting and I gave you detention for Thursday night. Eight o'clock. That will give us both time to learn more and for me to meet with the Headmaster. We will be able to discuss this again at that time. Do not be late, Miss Granger, or I may have to set another detention."
His eyes glittered with promise, but this time Hermione didn't feel threatened. She rather thought she might enjoy detentions with him if their kisses were any indication. "Yes, sir." She smiled and took one last longing look at him before turning and vacating the classroom.
It wasn't until she was nearly back to her common room that she realized he still had the twins' letter.
Chapter 4: Confessions
Snape sat at his desk after the door shut behind Hermione and let out a long, steadying breath. It had taken all of his considerable control to put her away from him during their kiss. He hadn't paid attention to the girl over the years, not to her appearance in any case, but he had paid attention tonight. She had filled out in all the right places, and he could still feel the silky texture of her skin under his fingers. It made him crave more, even while he wondered how he had come to be touching her there at all. The urge to touch, to take more, had been so strong he hadn't realized how far things had gotten until he pulled away.
That thought unnerved him. He couldn't afford to forget himself, not even around her. Just because the Amoriata ensured their mutual lust, and interest in each other, did not mean Hermione was infallible. She had friends she might share certain things with, and the word could get around like wildfire in the small world of Hogwarts. His heart still beat a bit faster than usual, but he couldn't help resenting the potion, the enchantment, that forced him to feel something for the young woman—for regardless of what he'd said to her, after having his arms full of her, he couldn't deny she was a young woman and no longer a child. Now was an incredibly inopportune time for him to become involved with someone.
Especially a young, Muggle-born someone who was best friends with Harry Potter.
He didn't need to have someone more to worry about. One more thing to hide from the Dark Lord. How long would it last? How long before the crazy megalomaniac picked up a hint of his relationship with the young woman? And though she was legally now an adult—he had checked earlier that day, she'd turned seventeen months earlier—she was so young yet. Severus knew he couldn't survive this war, justice alone would demand his blood. Thanks to the interfering Weasley twins, he now had someone to leave behind. Someone to mourn him. If his death weren't the herald for her own, he would find comfort in the fact that someone would mourn him now. Someone beside the Headmaster—a man Severus knew he would have to kill before too much more time passed.
It took a great deal of will power not to rush to his rooms and reach for a bottle of Old Ogden's to dull the emotions crowding through him. This predicament was unbearable. He had spent too many years shielding himself from emotions and relationships to be tossed into this storm without reeling in shock.
He stood and stalked across the room, then doubled back to the desk again. There was no choice, he had to speak with the Headmaster. Severus needed to let him know. A voice inside Severus's head suggested he keep it a secret, just between himself and Hermione, but he knew he couldn't. If Dumbledore found out another way, the Order's spy would be in considerable trouble. Yet he longed to keep it secret, to hold his love close and . . . He shook his head to clear it of the sugary musings and headed toward the Headmaster's office. If he didn't tell the old man now, he might talk himself out of it.
The walk to the Headmaster's office was faster than usual, Severus was sure, and he arrived before he was ready. He didn't hesitate, however, but pushed his way up the stairs and knocked on the closed door.
"Come in," the Headmaster called.
Dumbledore was standing next to the window that looked out over the grounds, as though he had been interrupted mid pace. "Severus, I trust you are well. Have a seat. Would you care for some tea?"
"Firewhiskey would be more apt, but yes, tea will suffice." Snape took a seat in one of Dumbledore's squashy armchairs and waited while the tea was conjured and poured. Dozens of past Headmasters peered down on them from their picture frames, obviously anxious to hear why Severus had come to speak to Dumbledore.
"So, what has brought you here this evening?" Albus lifted the cup to his lips and blew across the top.
"I, dash it all." Severus set the cup back on the edge of the desk before he followed the urge to throw it into the fire and stood, striding over to the window. He turned back to face his mentor and gripped his hands together behind him. "Perhaps you have heard of the Weasley twins' true love chocolates? I believe they are a relatively new addition to their stores."
When Albus nodded that he knew of them, Severus launched into a full account of what had happened between himself and Hermione the previous evening, the letter she had gotten that morning and the research he had done on it during the day. He left off the bit about the snog session he and Hermione had enjoyed, though he didn't doubt the Headmaster understood enough to know that a line had been crossed there. Whether he spelled out their activities or not would depend on the Headmaster's response to what he now knew.
The silence lengthened between them for some time as they looked at one another. Albus stood and walked over to a silver Muggle perpetual-motion toy, started the balls rocking, then watched it until it slowed nearly to a stop. Severus had seen this behavior before and knew it meant the Headmaster was considering his response.
"You don't have to say anything, and I already feel like a chastened student. This is beginning to feel entirely too familiar, me coming into your office to admit I have found myself in an untenable situation. I know you won't like this revelation any more than the one of last summer." Severus found his voice dropping off at the end, ashamed, despite his lack of control this time. Almost more ashamed because he would repeat his evening's activities again and hoped to do so very soon. He touched the tip of his tongue to his lips in memory and could swear he still tasted Hermione on them.
"Oh, you are wrong there. I find this one much less disturbing than the previous discussion." Dumbledore looked over his shoulder and smiled slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You finding your soul mate is considerably less disquieting to me than my impending death, even if the circumstances of the match are far from ideal."
Severus snorted at the understatement.
Albus turned back to the toy for a moment before beginning to speak. "The timing really is horrible."
"It could hardly be worse."
"It could be worse. This could have happened a couple years ago when Tom first returned to power. Explaining your Muggle-born soul mate would have been awkward. Not to mention that she would have been only fifteen at the time."
Severus ran both hands through his long hair in frustration. "Yes, that would have been worse. And please, I hardly need any reminders about how young she is. I already feel like a dirty old man."
A smile flit across the Headmaster's face before it became more serious. "What are the demands of the potion, Severus? How far must you take this?"
"It is believed that those affected can be satisfied for a time with handholding and kissing without venturing on to other waters. I do not know how long that will last before the compulsion to . . . push beyond those limits becomes unbearable." Severus didn't meet the Headmaster's eye. It was too awkward discussing his future sex life with a child—a student, he amended in his head, not a child.
The Headmaster nodded. "You will have to find a way to spend time together without drawing attention to yourselves. It wouldn't hurt to see if conversation alone will satisfy you to some degree. In fact, I highly encourage you to try this route. Letters, perhaps."
Letters my arse. The only letters she'll be getting from me are the ones I write on her skin with my tongue. The image of him spelling things out on various areas of her body sent his blood pressure soaring. He cleared his throat and forced his attention back to the Headmaster."I'm not much given to conversation, Albus. Not even in the best of times. I'm afraid allowing her the outlet might lead to Miss Granger believing it was a free-for-all to ask questions to her dear heart's content." He said this last sentence with a degree of disgruntled amusement he had not even felt before, never mind felt appropriate to express.
He found her constant questions irritating, exhausting, and stimulating all at once. Though he would never admit it, his soul mate was the most brilliant student to ever sit his class. In case the Headmaster decided he was growing soft, Severus added, "I have many other things to do with my time, both for my work here, and my work for you in other capacities."
"Yes, Tom does seem to be keeping you busy. But you will hardly be fit for these duties if you don't fulfill the potion's mandate. I do not approve of teacher/student relationships, no matter what the school charter says." Dumbledore's arms crossed over his chest, a frown forming on his face.
Severus ran that last bit through his head again. He had never heard anything like this breathed aloud, never mind detailed. "What exactly does the school charter say about teacher/student relationships?"
The old man's lips pursed together, as though sorry he had mentioned it. "The stipulation in the charter is that a romantic or physical relationship is prohibited between a staff member and student except in the case where a permanent commitment has been made. Very permanent. Binding, in fact."
Marriage. He's talking about marriage. He wants me to marry Hermione, and soon. I never planned to marry. "Binding? But Albus, the second it's registered—"
"You have lived a hard life, a dangerous one with little love, little companionship. I believe Miss Granger can provide both for you, if you give yourself a chance. There are ways to be bound that do not attract Ministry attention. I would encourage you to discuss this with Miss Granger and come up with a suitable date."
"And get myself killed on my next foray into the Dark Lord's presence? And where would that leave Potter's sidekick? Sure, she may live to fight the Dark Lord. She may even survive the odds, along with Potter, but her future will be short if I die. She's brilliant. How can I not feel responsible for her eventual death, knowing I am most likely to meet my own?"
Albus's eyes twinkled, though his face remained calm. "Don't die, Severus. Live. For the first time in your life you have a real reason to want to walk away from this battle beside the most basic survival instinct. Live for her, and for the future she could have, not only with you, but for herself. You are right, she is a very bright witch and deserves to have a chance to use her brain in the future."
Irritation ripped though him. "I didn't say she was bright, I said she was brilliant. And I'm afraid you're dealing with a lost cause. As though telling me to live will make it so." He snorted in disgust, then relented. Marriage. Married to Hermione. Sleeping beside Hermione. Waking beside Hermione. He pushed the thoughts away and focused again. "I will keep things on a semi-appropriate plane for as long as possible. When she is ready to take that step into something more, I will be sure to offer her what she deserves, regardless of the impossibility of her getting it from me long term." Relieved to have gotten off so easily, he wondered how he was to manage to keep physical contact to kisses for any reasonable stretch of time when he wanted so much more. He hadn't any clue.
"I may not be around a great deal longer to see this through. Don't put it off too long. You will eventually have to marry her anyway; the enchantment will demand it." Albus tipped his head and sent Severus a piercing look. "Just how fully did you explain all of the, er, side effects of this potion to Miss Granger?"
Severus froze in surprise for a fleeting second, then realized he should have known Albus would be aware of the final side effect. He spoke slowly and carefully, "Not as fully as I might have. I thought she had enough to be getting on with for now. I will apprise her of the final issues when I feel she is ready."
"She's not as breakable as you may think, Severus. It would be well for you to trust her. And don't be too long about the explanations, either. She won't appreciate it."
Severus nodded but didn't say anything in response. He hoped the subject was now closed.
"So all of the biscuits were dosed yesterday?" Dumbledore asked after a brief moment.
"I believe so, yes. I was thinking, sir, perhaps it would be a good idea for me to make a rather large batch of Anti-Conceptus and have the elves add it to the morning's pumpkin juice. I've no idea how many others may have been affected, but it would be a good idea to take measures in case some of those students are unprepared for the force of the chocolate's effects."
"Yes, good idea, and I'll increase prefects' rounds for the week. Some may be discouraged from certain behaviors that way."
Severus walked back to the desk and quickly drank his now-cold tea. "If there's nothing more, Headmaster."
"Just one more thing for you to think about. If certain events come to pass, this situation may provide a means for you to stay in touch with the Order. Whether she is officially a member of not, at least Miss Granger is privy to some secrets and understands your role. It wouldn't hurt to prepare her for certain eventualities. Harry may need your help to complete his mission as well."
"The boy hates me now, Albus. You can't think he's going to love me after . . . ."
Albus lifted one eyebrow and sent Severus a piercing look, one that clearly asked who was at fault if the boy hated him. Or perhaps that was the tiny shard of Severus's shattered conscience speaking. After a long moment of silence, Albus spoke, "He trusts Miss Granger. If she trusts you, your role can still be fulfilled."
Severus clenched his jaw and nodded, then let himself out of the office. He knew Dumbledore had a point, though he hated that the old man was pragmatic enough to think so clearly. The last thing Severus wanted to do was to help Potter—except that doing so was the best bet for defeating the Dark Lord. And while he could imagine only the worst kind of betrayal would even impact his feeling for Hermione, he knew she would see what he must do to and for the Headmaster as that kind of ultimate betrayal.
It doesn't bear thinking on, he told himself. What will be, will be. Now get to that potion making, unless you want half the students expelled for pregnancies.
Marriage, to Hermione. What a joke that would be. It wasn't as though anyone could know about it. I wouldn't be waking up beside her in the morning, sharing intimate breakfasts and such. None of that could be ours.
The whole thing would be a secret, a formality to appease the school charter. A travesty when one considered the way a marriage should be. He may not have dared expect the kind of marriage he saw between the Weasleys, but that didn't stop this new, sappier part of him from wishing something like it could be his.
The original, non-sappy part of him wished he could cut his own heart out with a spoon and dispose of it. This enchantment was going to make his life a living Hell. As if it wasn't bad enough without the assistance.