x x x Contractual Obligations: Part Ten x x x

His father was due at any moment, and the thought alone was enough to send shivers of pure, cold dread running up and down Severus' spine. Oh, if his students could only feel his emotions now, he mused with bitter irony. To know that their most hated Professor now only could fear something, but that it was nothing more than his father. The first would shock them, the second would no doubt send them into gales of laughter.

Of course, it wasn't true fear. Not the kind that sent those sniveling would-be witches and wizards running to hide under their blankets at night. No, this was a healthy dislike. A natural sense of wariness where the old man was concerned. Those were more apt definitions of what he was feeling. Where his father came, no good could follow.

As this entire marriage contract proved without deniability. There had been no 'good intent' in his father's heart when he sent in the contract. Not one single shred of cheer or joy. And he even had begun to wonder if this was done purely out of a desire to see the Snape family name continue on, or if it was some plot of his father's to further make his life a living hell.

His eyes wandered without purpose over the front of the grounds, lingering near the front gate. Still no sign of the old troublemaker.

Severus shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the eyes he knew were watching him from somewhere in the school via all those blasted windows. Perhaps if his ventures out of doors weren't so far and few between he wouldn't be under such intense, curious scrutiny from the students.

Or maybe it was simply because they'd heard from his gossipy bride-to-be that his father would be here today. The students would no doubt get great enjoyment from seeing what kind of creature had raised him. And he knew for a fact that Granger was curious on a morbid level, like someone who wanted to see their own doom in living color, knowing that they could do nothing to change it.

And his father was her doom, there was no mistake to it. Unless Merlin himself were looking out for them and incited a sudden, painful death in the old man, there was no way they could get around this marriage. She would be stuck for all of time as his. . .wife.

Even in his mind the word was distasteful. Married. To a student. Someone that was young enough to be his own daughter. And within a short time they would be –

The gate opened, and he knew even from this distance that it was his father. Dressed from head to toe in black, accented only with touches of silver. He was much like Lucius Malfoy in that respect, a creature of the shadows. Of darkness.

It was a wonder he had turned out so comparatively. . .normal, despite everything his students may believe, Severus snorted mentally without mirth. He made no step to meet his father, unwilling to concede even that little bit with so many concessions already forced upon him.

"Severus."

"Father."

They stood looking at each other, neither moving or speaking. Something that Severus found himself somewhat grateful for. He wasn't in the mood to converse with the old man, who looked so much older in the last rays of the setting sun.

But still not old enough to just die and get it over with before they were forced to go through with this sham of a wedding.

In the back of his mind he knew that, without this contract, Granger would have been forced into a much worse situation.

Funny how he couldn't find it within himself to care, with his father's black eyes trying their hardest to pierce right into his very soul.

"I'll show you to your room."

His father raised one long, black eyebrow. "I'd much rather meet the lovely witch I chose for you, Severus."

The way he said 'lovely' left no doubt in Severus' mind exactly what his father thought of Hermione Granger. A piece of flesh, and a sub-grade one at that. She was powerful and intelligent, but she wasn't a pureblood. She was. . .a last resort.

"She has class tomorrow and is no doubt in her rooms studying," he lied through his teeth, praying that they would not run into her during their brief voyage through the school's halls, in their path to the guest rooms.

His father's eyes narrowed to thin black slits, and Hogwarts most feared Professor found himself in the odd position of feeling like he was about to be thoroughly talked down to.

And he wasn't far from wrong.

"You will do as I say. Do not for one second forget that I can make your life an even more dismal hell than it already is, Severus. I want to meet this Granger girl and I will meet her –tonight-!"

Severus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something that would jeopardize his somewhat fragile standing with his father, reminding himself one last time that the old man literally held the power of whether or not he continued to exist in the wizarding world in frail, spindly hands.
"Fine. I will show you to your room and then fetch Miss Granger."

He turned, not wanting to see the inevitable smirk of satisfaction that flitted across his father's features.

x x x

Hermione found herself focusing on the lines in the floor as she followed behind Snape towards the guest room Dumbledore had assigned to his father. She had not wanted to meet with him tonight. Nor tomorrow, though she supposed that not doing so wasn't something of a choice since it would be their wedding night.

But not tonight. Definitely not tonight.

And, yet, here she was, being whisked away from her books to meet with the crazy, evil, disgusting old man that had forced her into this.

Better this than Draco Malfoy, she told herself with a sharp sigh. It drew a look from Snape and she pressed her lips together tightly, unwilling to answer the silent question he asked with a raise f his eyebrows.

"Be polite."

"Only if he is," she snapped.

"Miss Granger –"

"Do not think you can tell me what to say or how to say it," her voice was cold as they stopped outside of the door to his father's room.

"Fine," he smirked with a roll of his eyes. "Don't say I did not warn you."

x x x

She found herself stumbling back to her room an hour later, tears in her eyes. How could that man –

A part of her wanted to laugh at the bitter irony. She supposed this was proof positive that children were a product of their parents, part and parcel. Snape was certainly very much like his father in mannerism and attitude, whether or not either of them wanted to admit it. They dressed similarly and both had the manners of an older time, as was popular amongst the pureblood families she had been fortunate, or unfortunate, enough to spend time with.

But the similarities, while numerous, were overshadowed by something that she could only describe as 'soul'. Snape had one, his father most certainly did not. How it was possible to hate someone more than she had ever hated Snape, she wasn't sure. But tonight had done it. She hated Snape Sr. with a passion that she hadn't known she possessed. It had been all she could do to bite her tongue and not deliver to him the firm tongue lashing she thought so dearly that he needed. It wasn't good manners that held her back. Or even a sense of respect, because she had none for him before the rendezvous began and certainly none now that it was over and done with.

No, she had held her tongue because of the way Snape had looked before they walked in the room, when he warned her to stay polite. Because of the way he had held himself in check no matter what his father had said to or about him during the course of their get together.

Almost as if he was –

No, she told herself with a shake of her head. There was no way that Snape was afraid of his father. Cautious was the right word, she told herself. He was cautious.

And if he was cautious, the least she could do was hold her tongue and bide her time until he was no longer in a position to lord over them.

x x x

The evening of the wedding came sooner than Hermione would have liked, and was on a night so beautiful that she hated to spoil it with such grief. She looked up into the clear sky, wishing that the stars weren't sparkling like so many jewels. That something about the setting for all of this would be less than ideal so that she had one more reason to be miserable.

"Hey you."

Hermione turned, giving Ginny the best smile she could manage given the turmoil of her heart. She unconsciously ran her hands down her sides, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles in the plain white robes she had chosen for the ceremony. The only embellishment was a row of faux-pearls on either side of the front closure. It was simple, yet elegant. Not the wedding robes she'd always dreamed of, but not her plain old school robes, either.

"Hey," Hermione offered, her brow furrowing at the flowers Ginny held in her hand. "For me?"

The red head nodded, offering the bouquet of white roses, tied together with a simple white ribbon. They were beautiful, even though a reminder of something that she would have rather forgotten. Her wedding. In – she turned to look at the clock on her nightstand – less than twenty minutes.

White roses, for her funeral, she thought morosely.

"Your mum just arrived, too. She's with Dumbledore right now."

Hermione couldn't help the feeling of sadness that coursed through her. Ginny hadn't said her mum and dad. Just her mum. Her dad hadn't come. She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. She had known the night she left their house that she was making a choice. It was a choice that, while she'd hoped to never have to make, had always known somewhere in her mind she would. To stay within the wizarding world, no matter what, or to abandon it completely for the Muggle world.

And she'd made her choice.

"We should go down there."

She looked into Ginny's worried eyes and nodded slowly. "I know."

But she didn't move and Ginny didn't make her. They stood there, just looking at one another, and then looking around the room. It hit her like a punch in the stomach that she wouldn't be sleeping in this room again. Not tonight, not tomorrow night. She would be a married woman, living with her. . .husband. And they would, after the ceremony tonight –

She moved quickly towards the door, thoughts of running going through her mind. Her mother would take her home, they could figure something out. There had to be classes she could take to catch up in a regular school. And she could live without magic for the rest of her life. Without the excitement of brewing a potion or transfiguring something into a whole new . . .

No, she stopped, one hand on the door. She couldn't run. She couldn't give this up.

"Ready?"

Ginny's voice floated to her ears from behind her, and Hermione nodded. She wasn't ready, but she had to be.

The moment she set foot outside of that door nothing would ever be the same again. She'd go down to the section of the ground that had been set aside for the wedding, she'd walk down the aisle as friends. . .schoolmates. . .Professors and her mother looked on, each feeling the same thing she was.

And she'd marry him.

Because, in the end, she loved this world too much to just give it up.

x x x End Part x x x