x x x Contractual Obligations x x x
They apparated just outside the school gates, reality rushing back in a snap that left Hermione feeling sick and cold. Everything seemed different now. Even the school that she loved, in the light of the setting sun, seemed foreign and altogether unfriendly. She took a step back from Snape, ignoring the frown on his face. If he could have apparated her from the Ministry to here without touching her so closely, she had no doubt that he would. This was no more pleasant for him than it was for her, she reminded herself, when the causticness of her thoughts began to run too deeply. Perhaps even more so.

"'Mione!"

She turned, blinking into the dusky twilight as two familiar figures ran towards her, the Headmaster and Snape.

"Thank Merlin," Ron panted, coming to a stop next to her. "We've been watching for you for hours."

Hermione bit back a sharp retort that they hadn't been gone -that- long, choosing to focus instead on the obvious.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy," Harry frowned, sparing a glance for first the Headmaster, then Snape. "He's told the whole school already."

"They. . .know?" Words were failing her now, when she needed them the most. Suddenly the school, which had already looked so foreign moments before, took on a new appearance to her startled, fragile mind. Like a house of horrors that would suddenly spring to life at any minute.

"It's not good," Harry whispered, for her ears only, though she was all too aware that Dumbledore and Snape were standing close enough to hear him anyway. "The Gryffindors are in an uproar. So are the Slytherins, for that matter. Rumors have already started about how --"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand, shaking her head furiously. "I don't want to hear it."

"You'll need to eventually, Miss Granger," Dumbledore sighed, weariness in his tone. "Unless you plan on spending the rest of the term outside of the gates? Even then I cannot guarantee that your classmates won't seek an opportunity to come down here to heckle you."

Hermione flushed with annoyed anger. He was right, of course. She couldn't just stand down here forever. Eventually she would have to go up there and listen to what they were saying, be the centerpiece for their ridiculous taunts and leers. She shuddered.

"I believe this would be the appropriate time to tell your parents, then?"

She wasn't the only one that heard a touch of. . .softness. . in Snape's voice as he spoke what should have been damning words. Both Ron and Harry looked as if they'd swallowed a lemon, eyes equally wide with shock. It was the first time that day when he'd spoken with anything outside of mocking derision or forced civility and, even now, it sounded less kind than anything she would usually label as such. Kindness did not run through his veins - at least not what she would classify as such. Perhaps this was the closest he ever came, and she should just be happy for what it was and not wish for more.

Wishing was futile, after all. Whether or not his cold facade ever melted was inconsequential considering there was no alternative. They would be wed, with or without smiles. Definitely without, she amended silently.

"Miss Granger? Your parents?"

Ah, there was the Snape she knew and anything but loved. The sneer was back, and she realized with a start that he was still waiting for an answer from her. So were Harry, Ron, and the Headmaster. All looking at her, all waiting for her to say something.

But she didn't want to go. She didn't want to tell her mother and father that she was getting married to. . .to. . . him! In her mind she sounded like a whining child - but that was all she could manage to feel.

Yet, she wasn't a whining child. She was seventeen years of age, nearly eighteen. In another few months she'd be a graduate of Hogwarts. And in less time than that she would most certainly be married, even if it wasn't of her own choice. She no longer had time for the luxuries of childhood.

Her parents had to be told. Tonight. Before somehow, some way, word got back to them. It wasn't impossible, for all that they didn't subscribe to any wizarding papers or receive any guests from her world.

"Yes," she nodded slowly. "A good of time as any, I suppose. Thank you for coming out to warn me, Harry . . .Ron. I'll be back shortly."

Without even thinking, she stepped closer to Professor Snape, lightly touching his shirt as he laid a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes shut and a moment later the sick feeling of apparating closed over her. She'd have to get her own apparating license soon enough, she thought as they came to a stop in front of her parents' home. It wasn't something she was good at, though, and she'd held off as long as she could from taking the test. That wouldn't be practical now.

In silence they walked to the front door, not discussing what was to be said or how it should be conveyed. It seemed a given that this wouldn't go well, and she didn't have it in her heart to hope for anything else. Her father would be furious. Her mother. . .scandalized.

And really there was nothing she could do, short of giving up her place in the wizarding world. Which they would want, should they be given notice that it was an option.

Well, she just wouldn't tell them and trust that Professor Snape would remain his usual, unhelpful self.

She pushed the doorbell, fingers plucking absently at the edge of her coat. Sighing, she made a mental effort to stop. If she kept on this way she'd have nothing left in the way of clothes, except piles of torn fabric and bits of string.

The door opened, spilling warm, golden light from the house to the front steps.

"Hermione!"

It was her mother she heard first, and then her father echoing from the den. She forced a smile on her face, knowing that it wouldn't hold for long.

"Hullo, Mum."

Her mother frowned. "Shouldn't you be in school, sweetie? And who's this?"

Hermione stepped inside as her mother swung the door open, gesturing for Professor Snape to do the same.

"My Potions Professor."

"Oh, how wonderful," her mother's smile faltered, and Hermione knew why. She'd heard the tales of Snape. His injustices and biases. Of all the Professors she could have brought home, this was the one her parents would be least thrilled with. Her mother glanced over her shoulder as footsteps sounded on the polished wood floor of the hall. Her father was joining them. "Hermione brought one of her Professors to visit, dear."

"Oh, which one?" Her father smiled, holding out his hand.

"Potions."

"Ah."

Hermione glanced sideways, unsurprised to see that Snape's glare had deepened.

"Why're you home, pumpkin?" her dad offered, tilting his head towards the living room. "Not that we're not glad to see you --"

"But I should be in school," Hermione finished with a sigh. "Mum, Dad - I've got something to tell you. And it won't be easy to hear."

They frowned, looking back and forth between one another as they took a seat on the loveseat, leaving her and Snape with the couch across from them. She sat down gingerly, resisting the urge to plot out the quickest path from here to the doorway, just in case.

"Well, you see. . . They passed this new law in the wizarding world decreeing that a pureblood may issue a marriage contract on a muggleborn witch or wizard. The witch or wizard in question is unable to turn down the contract, of course. It's binding from the moment the pureblood issues it."

"That's barbaric!" her father muttered, eyes dark. "I can't believe that your Minister would let such a thing happen."

Her mother was quiet, and Hermione could almost see the knowledge dawning her eyes, slowly - like the sun rising in the morning.

"You've been. . . contracted?" Her mother whispered.

"Yes," Hermione nodded.

Her father shook his head. "I won't allow this to happen."

"You don't have a choice."

Hermione winced as Snape laid the facts bare with all the tact and reserve of a street walker. Her father's face went from pale white to beet red in an instant, the quickest she'd ever seen him get angry.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said that you don't have a choice in the matter," Snape replied back silkily, without so much as a batted lash over the way her father was behaving. Unflappable, that's what he was. Or perhaps inhuman. "Hermione is the one with the power in this situation. Even common muggle law dictates that she may choose her suitor at her age, does it not?"

And it did. Wizarding law was eighteen, which she met by wizarding standards - and muggle law was seventeen, which she more than met. It had only been changed to eighteen in her world with this new law going into effect - a weak effort to keep all the lecherous old wizards from snatching up girls that were no more than entering their first year.

A lose-lose situation is what she was in.

"Who is it?"

"Hmm?" Hermione bit her lip, knowing fully well what her mother had asked. She tore her eyes from her father's red face to look into her mother's sad eyes. "What was that, mum?"

"Who is it? The wizard that made the contract. . . . Is it someone we know? That Ron boy, perhaps?"

"No," Hermione shook her head sadly. "Though his mum would gladly have thrown one of the boys at me if she'd known this was going to happen. I. . . brought him here tonight. To meet you."

The words came out in a rush, and she glanced between their faces, hoping for comprehension to come without her having to spell it out for them.

"Is he still outside?" Her mother asked, standing almost immediately. "The poor boy is going to freeze to death."

"No," Hermione shook her head, standing without thinking. She sighed, glancing from her mother to her father. "Professor Snape is the one with the contract."

Her father was up and moving before she could even think to pull her wand. Certainly she hadn't expected a physical attack from him. Not on herself or Snape, for that matter. And, judging by the fact that her rather formidable Professor was also caught offguard, he had not expected it, either. Her father's fist landed hard on Snape's jaw, snapping his head back and to the side. She gasped and, without thinking about the consequences, put herself between the two men.

"That. Is. Enough." She forced between teeth clenched tight. She feared that loosening that stranglehold on her mouth would let the tears break free. "He didn't -ask- for this, you know. His father issued the contract for me. Which he can do. That's the right a wizarding father has over their sons. Sick, isn't it? Twisted. I have no choice. He has no choice! There is no bloody choice!"

Her screaming left the room in silence, both of her parents looking at her as if they'd only just noticed her, for the first time. Like all of her life she'd lived under a veil and now that it was gone, they just weren't sure what to do.

"He didn't choose you?" Her mother asked quietly.

"No. His father did." Hermione repeated patiently. She'd had all day to muddle through this, after all. They'd had less than ten minutes.

"Why? Why you? I though most purebloods hate muggles and --"

"Muggleborns," she finished for her father. "And - I don't know why."

"Because you are who you are," Snape growled. He was holding his jaw and there was a spot of blood at the corner of his mouth. She felt her face heat up with embarassment over her father's actions and turned her head back so that she could stare at the floor. "You are bright and powerful and any wizard would see that as an asset, as you can guess. However, that is just a guess, considering he did not consult me prior to making a fool of me!"

She flinched, but nodded. "Of course."

"Of course." Her mother echoed, only her father choosing to remain silent now. She hoped that he was regretting what he'd done.

"We should get going," she whispered. "Madam Pomfrey will need a look at that. I'll owl you the details of the ceremony, mum, dad."

It was her mother than broke free of the shock and despair long enough to walk them to the door. Hermione's breath caught as her mother grabbed hold of Snape's hand.

"Take care of her. Please. Whether you enjoy her presence or not. I may not be a witch, but I will find some way to hurt you if you cause her any pain that is not completely unavoidable."

He held her eyes, brown to black, darkness to light; and nodded. Hermione let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Your father will calm down," her mother murmured, turning now to her. "Owl us when you make the plans."

There had to be other questions she wanted to ask, but she didn't - something Hermione promised to thank her for later.

"Love you, mum," she whispered.

"Love you, too, sweetie."

And before her mother could even shut the door Snape had a hand on her shoulder, the world fading out to a pinprick as they apparated away.

Now the fun began, she told herself sarcastically as the gates of Hogwarts appeared again. She wouldn't need Snape to hurt her any more - her fellow classmates would be up to the task.

Of that she was quite sure.

x x x End Part x x x