x x x Contractual Obligations: Chapter Fourx x x
She was fidgeting when the Headmaster led Ron and Harry into the office. Her fingers had gotten a mind of their own somewhere between the time he left to retrieve them and the time they returned; and try as she might she could not get them to stop. A nervous gesture, she supposed; but one she did not want or need at this point.
"Where've you been all day, 'Mione?" Ron frowned, falling bonelessly into the chair nearest her. "We wanted to go look for you when you didn't show up for Transfiguration, but McGonagall --"
"-Professor- McGonagall," Hermione corrected automatically, forcing her hands to stay clasped in her lap. Even now she didn't want to let on that something was wrong, though they'd know soon enough. Keep up appearances, wasn't that what she'd always told herself? Make everyone think that things are fine and they will be. You just have to weather the storm with silent strength.
But this was no storm she could weather. It was a hurricane, and she was in the center, watching the winds build around her.
"Right, she said that you were working on a project," he finished with a shrug. "I don't remember you saying anything about a project at breakfast."
She sighed, shaking her head even as she sought out Harry's eyes. Green to brown they met, one with worry, the other with anxiety.
"Please sit, Harry," Dumbledore pointed to the other chair in the room. "I believe Miss Granger has something she wishes to tell you."
Hermione nodded, averting her eyes from Harry's. It was too hard, this feeling that she had in the pit of her stomach, like a sense of foreboding. Her entire world was being turned on its head, and these two were the only ones she could even hope would understand.
But. . .would they?
"Right, then," Harry began slowly, taking a seat. "What's wrong?"
"What. . ." she forced a laugh to her lips, hoping it didn't sound as hollow to them as it did to her own ears. "What makes you think something is wrong?"
They shared a look with each other, their eyes slowly returning to her.
"You've picked a hole in your robe," Harry pointed. She glanced down, blushing. There it was. A hole, definitely noticeable. The little frayed edges showed signs of the incessant picking her fingers had been wont to do since that morning.
"Oh," she smiled weakly. "I --"
She stopped, and silence filled the room. All eyes were on her - Harry's, Ron's, Dumbledore's - but she didn't have the slightest clue what to say. She sighed, licking her lips. Her hands were at it again, playing with that same hole that Harry had pointed out to her.
"Would you like me to tell them, Miss Granger?"
The brunette's eyes flew up to the Headmaster, her chest falling as she exhaled sharply. It would all be easier if he told them, right?
No.
She shook her head.
"I can do this. Thank you."
The aging wizard nodded, gesturing for her to continue. Or get on with it, she supposed. It wasn't as if she'd begun at all up to that point. And they were still watching, waiting. Trying to be patient with her, even though Ron looked as though he might get up and shake her senseless if she didn't tell them what was going on soon.
"You know that Marriage Law that the Ministry just enacted?" She began slowly.
Ron snorted. "Know about it? Mum owled last week ranting about it. Says that there's no way she'd wanted any of us to marry someone just to get the blood untainted or whatever's going through the Ministry's thick heads."
Hermione smiled, looking to Harry for his reaction to her statement.
"Who is it?" The Boy Who Lived asked without preamble.
She sucked in a breath. That wasn't what she'd expected. Then again, he always had put two and two together a little quicker than Ron. Even now he was watching her with those great green eyes, wide and full of worry for her. Her lips turned up in a sad smile.
"Two wizards asked for me . . .on behalf of their sons. . . Lucius Malfoy for Draco and Alessander Snape for Professor Snape."
Their sharp intake of breath filled the air in the immediate silence her words left. She turned her eyes away, unable to meet their now pity-filled gazes.
"You chose Snape, right?" Harry muttered. He leaned forward, grabbing her hand and squeezing gently until she faced him again. His eyes were pleading. "Please tell me you chose Snape. I know he's not the nicest - but he's better than Malfoy."
"At least Malfoy's her own age," Ron cut in with a disgusted shake of his head. "Snape's a greasy old man, 'Mione."
"And Draco is a Death Eater." Harry frowned. He let go of Hermione's hand and turned to face the red haired wizard. "Snape's at least got his priorities straight."
Hermione sighed, listening as the two of them debated the pros and cons of each. Harry on Snape's side, Ron on Draco's for reasons she couldn't ponder. He'd look back on this later, she was sure, and feel sick for defending Draco's imaginary honor. She offered Dumbledore a weak smile, as if to say that their reaction was better than she'd hoped for. At least one of them was seeing her way of things, even if the other might take some time to win over.
The Headmaster inclined his head, a silent agreement to the unspoken thoughts that were racing through her mind.
And then it hit her, maybe she'd been looking at this the wrong way from the moment Snape reminded her she had to tell the boys. Maybe it wasn't telling -them- that was the part she should be anxious about. They were her friends, after all. True friends, the type that would save you from a troll or defeat the Dark Lord to save you.
No, she needed to worry about what the other students were going to say.
"Oh, Merlin," she moaned softly, pulling her legs up into the chair, as if to wrap herself in a little ball and hide from the outside world.
The talking stopped. The arguing just ceased, like a switch had been thrown.
"Aw, 'Mione," Ron sighed. She heard some movement, and then he was kneeling in front of her, looking up into her face. "I'm sorry. I don't care if you chose the greasy git over the rabid ferret."
She sniffled, her heart wrenching back and forth from happiness that they still wanted to be her friend, to agony over what was to happen in only a few hours. The entire student body was going to be told, Professors included. She would have to sit there, feel them staring at her.
And then. . .
Then the days after that?
Snape was right, of course. The easier course of action was by no means the easiest. Marrying him would protect her body and mind so much as was able during these times, but it would by no means be an easy way out. The Ravenclaws would wonder, the Hufflepuffs would console. The Gryffindors would be angry and confused. And the Slytherins -
Well, she couldn't even begin to comprehend how they would react.
"It's going to be alright," Harry patted her arm. She hadn't even heard him stand up, much less move next to her chair.
"No it won't," she shook her head. "My life is over. . ."
"No!" Ron cried, face screwing into thin, quick lines of anger. "Your life is not over. Snape won't hurt you. He won't stop you from doing what you want. Harry's right - he's not nice, but that doesn't mean --"
Hermione sighed, a quick shake of her head cutting off Ron's protests in midstream. "He doesn't have to - the contract his father drew up makes Professor Snape doing anything personally unnecessary."
"What do you mean?" Harry frowned. "I thought the Law only made you marry him, not obey him."
"It doesn't, per se," the Gryffindor witch nodded, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her robe. It was ruined anyhow, a little salty water couldn't do much damage. "But the one making the proposal is free to add certain. . .guidelines. . .to the marriage."
"Like --" Ron prompted slowly, rising to his feet.
"Like. . .when the marriage has to happen, what I have to wear to signify the union," she held up her left hand, letting the ring she had tried to hide up until that point sparkle in the candlelight. "And. . .you know, other stuff."
She avoided the obvious with as much will as she could, refusing to dwell on the entire matter of children until it was absolutely necessary. Harry and Ron, as close as they were to her, didn't need to know those things. Let them blithely assume that she wouldn't have to get within a room's length of Snape after they were married if that's what they liked. Only she and Snape knew different. And this matter, above all else, concerned only them.
Her tears began to flow more freely now, trailing down her cheeks in wet, sloppy lines.
"Here, eat this," Ron offered when the first sob tore from her lips, shoving a piece of chocolate into her hand. Without even thinking about it, she eyed the wrapper warily, blinking blurrily at the bit of wax paper for any signs of his ever notorious brothers' trademark. Ron chuckled, "It's just chocolate! I swear!"
The brunette felt herself grin just a bit, the normality of such a random thing breaking through the walls of pain that had been building inside her. She popped the chocolate into her mouth, letting the warm gooeyness fill her tastebuds with the rich cocoa flavor. Slowly she felt her body ease up a bit, the uncontrollable urge to tuck in on herself receding gradually as the tears lessened. Chocolate, as ever, was a miracle worker.
"One way or another," Harry murmured, reaching down to hug her. "This will be okay. Maybe not alright, I can admit. But 'okay'."
She nodded, returning the hug.
"Even if it is Snape," Ron chimed in, making the hug three way as he wrapped his well-toned arms around her from the other side. "We've gotten through worse than this, you know."
Hermione snorted. "You make it sound like homework. . . or a battle."
"It is," the red haired wizard smiled broadly, but his eyes were serious. "When everyone finds out - it'll be us versus the school. I won't let anyone talk bad about you for this."
"He's right," Harry nodded. "Though. . . it might help that your husband," he choked over the word, face reddening. ". . .is the most feared Professor in the whole school."
"Do not forget that myself and Professor McGonagall are also here for you if you experience any. . difficulties," the Headmaster spoke up, reminding the teens that he was still present in the room.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Hermione sighed. "And you, two, too. You're the best. I was so scared --"
"That we'd abandon you?" Harry frowned. "You always think the worst things first, don't you?"
"It's a gift, I guess," she shrugged.
"Yes, well --"
Ron's words died off as a large grey-black owl dove in through the window, narrowly missing his head with its large, erratic sweep of the room. It landed without further preamble on Dumbledore's desk, shaking out feathers damp from the light misting rain falling outside.
The Headmaster's brow creased as he pulled off the piece of rolled parchment from the owl's leg, reading over it quickly.
"An unexpected turn of events becomes even more convoluted," Dumbledore frowned, passing the parchment to Hermione. She glanced through the short paragraph, face paling.
"What is it?" Ron was the first to ask, breaking through the gloomy thoughts already running rampant through her brain. She licked her lips, passing the parchment to Harry.
"It's from the Ministry - Snape and I are to appear immediately. Lucius Malfoy is contesting the validity of his claim."
x x x End Partx x x