Title: The Adventure Inherent

Chapter 2: Hermione's POV: A Quick and Clever Witch

Week One, Day One: Monday Evening, continued.

Chapter Summary: "Tell me, Miss Granger, and truly, now is not the time to hold back: Have you ever fancied being Mrs. Draco Malfoy?"

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She knocked on his door, the door to his private office and suites, and waited. Harry and Ron had told her about the time they'd been brought here, after they crashed into the Whomping Willow and their description hadn't been full of joy. She smoothed out her skirt and minutely adjusted her Head Girl pin as she took another deep breath.

The trick with Professor Snape was to just clear your mind. You couldn't worry about whatever it was you thought you'd done, or in her case, the possibility of a Seventh Year Project in Potions that would look incredible on her applications to University. You couldn't think of any of that, because whether or not the professor was actually practicing Legilimency on you at the time, he could smell your fear, possibly in a literal sense. It was best to just try not to fear him, though clearly that was a tall order. It worked in theory, however, and clearing your mind was the first step.

The door was obviously charmed to unlock and swing open by itself, as when she entered, the professor was nowhere in sight. Glancing around the private laboratory, the shelves upon shelves of stores, potions, and books, Hermione found herself somewhat wide-eyed and slightly breathless before she remembered to clear her mind.

"Professor Snape, it's Hermione Granger," she politely called out to the room, hoping that wherever he was he would hear. "I've come to discuss the project you mentioned after class today." She licked her lips and tried to empty her mind again. She was slightly less successful than the last time.

After only a few heartbeats, during only one of which her mind was actually clear, she heard his voice. The sound was slightly muffled and coming through a lit doorway.

"In here, Miss Granger."

The click of her school shoes sounded across the stone as she crossed his private office to come to a doorway off to the side, where she paused. It was a cozy room, with tapestries covering what walls the bookshelves didn't. There were two chairs by the fire and a worktable in the corner by the bookcases. It was quite nice, really, and not something she would have immediately associated with this particular professor.

Though he didn't rise as she entered, he did indicate that she too could sit, and she did, finding the chair quite comfortable, and probably as perfect for reading as it was for having conversation in. Not that what was about to transpire was going to be an actual conversation, but still. It was somehow nice to know that even Professor Snape liked comfortable chairs by his fire. It made him that much more human in her eyes.

When he looked at her, Hermione was taken slightly off her guard. For once he didn't look… well, sneaky. He usually wore a look that was not entirely trustworthy, and was occasionally down right evil. She had an odd feeling that she was about to see the man at his most sneaky, or possibly she was about to see him as close to guileless as possible. Either option was unnerving.

"Miss Granger," he started, and she was slightly unnerved at how completely still he was. "What we are about to discuss is extremely sensitive in nature. I trust in two things. The first, that you will use what I know to be your considerable discretion concerning the proceedings."

Before he spoke again, he broke eye contact and this too, unnerved her. She hadn't realized how intimate it was, human being to human being, until it was gone. He stared into the flames consuming the logs in the fireplace as he continued.

"You know of my work for the Order, and you must realize by now that in the eyes of most of the students in this castle, I must be seen as remaining loyal to the Dark Lord. I would not have you reverse all of my hard work." There was the barest hint of a smile at that, before he turned back to her and held her gaze.

"The second, that for the duration of these proceedings, and any like them, you will consider the two of us equals, colleagues if you will, and as such nothing you say or do will be used against you or your house. Do you understand?"

Hermione took a moment to digest this. "So, what you mean to say, Professor, is that I may feel free to speak my honest mind without fear of censure from you, I just can't tell anyone about it."

There was a smile at that. It was small, but it was a smile, and quite frankly, it looked better than his scowls. "Exactly. Do you find these terms acceptable?"

"I do, Professor."

"Good. I think it fair to tell you that I have not summoned you to discuss a project, though once the present crisis is averted I would not be adverse to such a discussion."

"Crisis, sir?" She couldn't honestly think of such a thing that would necessitate Professor Snape calling her instead of Professor McGonagall. She also noted with some interest that he left the option of the project open. It was much more than she'd ever hoped for, the project.

"Crisis, Miss Granger," he affirmed.

Apparently she could ask him questions in this forum without fear of snarky rejoinders, either. That was even nicer than the house points issue.

"The Headmaster and the Order have had much deliberation on the subject of your humble self over the last few weeks. For reasons that will be quite clear later on, I was deemed the best person to approach you on the matter. You are, I suppose, aware of the recent bit of atrocious legislation that has been written and passed by the Ministry?"

"Yes, sir. I know that there are some people, and some of whom are in the Order, who are in process of overturning it, or something similar."

"Indeed, but it will not be overturned by next week."

He paused for quite a length of time at this, and she felt the need to fill in the void and risk his possible wrath, as he wouldn't be taking house points away for it. "And next week is important in what respect?"

"Next week you will have lived 222 months, and become officially eligible."

"I beg your pardon, sir. I shan't be 18 1/2 for another six months. And I don't particularly see what the problem is - it's not as if there is a line forming. I mean, I haven't had a boyfriend in a year."

"Two words, Miss Granger." And these two words he enunciated with terribly clarity. "Time turner."

"Time turner," she whispered with dawning distaste.

"And for your information, the line has already formed."

She was suddenly so cold. It was as if the fire had gone out in his study, as if there were no warm tapestries to keep out the chill of the stone.

Her look of confusion and dawning horror apparently weren't lost on him.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, and truly, now is not the time to hold back: Have you ever fancied being Mrs. Draco Malfoy?"

She hoped her moan of disgust was answer enough. Coherency wasn't going to happen just yet. She wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her thin cloak tighter, trying desperately to get warm.

There was silence, but she didn't care. A hot cup of tea was pressed into her hands and she curled her fingers around it, and the heat hurt. It was the small sharp pain that brought her back to reality in time to see the professor cast a temporary warming charm over her and the chair she sat in. She met his eyes as the charm began its beautiful magic on her. Once she was feeling more herself, he continued as if the brief episode hadn't occurred. Later, she would look back on it and be grateful.

"I quite agree, as does Albus. Unfortunately, with the offer forthcoming, as it most certainly will be upon the hour of your eligibility, it is quite impossible for you to remain unbetrothed. It is equally impossible for you to marry anyone who could not otherwise withstand the wrath of a Deatheater. Lucius Malfoy, for all of his many faults, is a very powerful wizard, and very protective of his son."

"It certainly does narrow my field of possibility, doesn't it?" she asked quietly, and somewhat out of breath. She couldn't marry a muggle, not that she knew any. But her parents were always talking about the possibility, not that it was a possibility anymore. They wouldn't understand why such a quick marriage was necessary, and of course, they'd be murdered out of hand. And her past boyfriends? No, none of them fit the bill.

So there it was: it would have to be someone she'd never been intimate with. There was a thought to sober you up, if ever there was one. Maybe someone she already knew, but probably someone older.

It was just as well that the professor kept speaking, as Hermione's mind was going nowhere good, and getting there quickly.

"Indeed, and Albus has spent much time pondering just that. Do you have any suggestions of your own, Miss Granger? Any suitable possibilities come to mind?"

She thought briefly of Harry. He was really the only one, and he was in love with someone else, something that before this moment she'd never begrudged him. For the tiniest moment she wished they'd been involved. It would have made life so much easier. But the moment passed before she had time to even really grasp onto it, because he was Harry, for heaven's sake. Harry. She just couldn't think of him like that. Then again, she couldn't think of Malfoy like that either, so maybe if Harry weren't attached to someone else… But he was. So it was no use.

She shook her head. There was no one.

"Albus has been planning for this eventuality. According to the law, you have a month after you receive your first offer to decide upon it. If you do not accept an alternate offer, or present some other binding plan to marry someone not yet eligible, you will by default accept the first offer.

"What I mean to say, Miss Granger, is that you have approximately five weeks to decide to whom you will be married, and that a rash answer need not be given tonight."

She nodded. Clearly the Headmaster really had planned ahead, and her other marriage option was going to be given to her right now. Her brain automatically started racking itself to make educated guesses. She was coming up completely blank, until after a moment, a diamond sharp realization sliced through the soft grey matter of her brain.

"Is it safe to assume, sir," she started, very quietly, and very gingerly, almost as if she could do it quietly and gingerly enough, it wouldn't actually be occurring. "That as I am in your sitting room discussing this with you instead of the Headmaster, that you are… that you have… that I am to expect an offer from you as well?"

His response was oh-so quiet. "You are a quick and clever witch, Hermione Granger."

Her throat closed. Her heart dropped to her stomach. She stopped breathing altogether.

She took some moments to compose herself before she spoke again.

"As much as I would do to avoid marriage with Malfoy, I do not relish the idea of marrying a relative stranger either. You may think it a childish sentiment, particularly in view of the war, and of your sacrifices, should such an arrangement take place, but I would very much like to know who it is I am to marry. I mean, I would like to get to know you, sir, in what little way I can before I make my decision. And if… when I so choose, I would want to continue that process, I think."

Perhaps it was her imagination, because heaven knows quite a bit had been thrown at her, but he sounded almost relieved in his response.

"That is quite advisable, Miss Granger. To that end, I think a potions project is in order after all. It will give us both a chance to know one another."

She nodded and there was silence.

"I can only assume, Miss Granger, that you have quite a bit to think about just now, and will require some time alone, or perhaps in the company of your friends. I only ask that you require of them the same discretion you yourself have. If you return in two days, we will discuss what manner of project you can do to further amaze and astound the entrance boards of the universities."

She smiled briefly and nodded, but it was short lived. It was now or never, really.

"I have one question, Professor. You have, in a very strange and roundabout way, asked me to marry you. I have, in a very strange and roundabout way, accepted. What then occurs in class? You have not, in the years I have known you, been the kindest nor the fairest professor in the school. With the very notable exception of Professor Umbridge, you have been the most hateful, cruel, arbitrary, punitive, bigoted, unfeeling bastard that has ever taught us. How do I reconcile the man I will probably marry, the man who sits before me, who does not seem to resemble these things to the man I will face in class during potions?"

She had remained quiet throughout the entire question. In fact, she had nearly whispered it. It wasn't anger that had motivated her, and perhaps that's why. There was more of a tearing, painful confusion in the middle of her chest that she just couldn't account for, and it hurt. So she had asked.

His response was surprisingly gentle.

"How would you have me be, Miss Granger?"

She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. It was almost too much, and she didn't have an answer. He was a spy, and while he probably had a significant natural tendency to be a bastard, much of it could be attributed to his work for the Order. Though, he probably did truly hate Harry. That didn't bear thinking just now, though.

When she opened her eyes again, he was leaning forward.

"I can't change my attitude in class, at least not at this time. However, I promise, as a token of my earnest, that whatever unmerited points I deduct from your best friends, I will somehow award back before the end of the week."

Her jaw dropped. Of all the things to hear in the evening, this had shocked her the most. "You'll award points to Gryffindor, sir?"

"Best not to rub it in just yet, Miss Granger. I'm still getting used to the idea."

"Sir, if we do become betrothed, will you still be hateful then?"

"While it would amuse me heartily to give half of my own house the vapors by blatantly not doing so, that is a topic we would bring before the Headmaster before coming to a definite decision, I think."

She nodded.

"Do you have any other questions before our evening ends?

She shook her head mutely. The moment of laughter he had nearly evoked dissipated and left her staring unseeing into the flames of the fire.

"Come then," he said, getting up, and apparently waiting for her to do the same. Motioning for her to precede him out of the room and into his laboratory, he continued. "Your mind is elsewhere, and I would hate for you to get entangled with any of my Slytherins enroute to your Common Room. I shall escort you to your tower."

It was as he was just finishing putting on his outer robes, just before he began to take down the wards on the door exiting his chambers that her mind seemed to click back and into the current situation.

"Won't that seem strange, sir?"

He paused and turned his head, meeting her eyes.

"Before the year is out, Miss Granger, Hogwarts is going to see many a strange thing from the two of us. This will be the least of them all."

And that was the crux of it, of course. She hadn't officially decided, but what choice did she have? Was it the end of the world? Maybe, but maybe not. Either way, she was going to marry Snape. It probably wasn't a sign of the apocalypse, which meant that the morning after it she would still be Hermione, if not Granger.

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...to be continued in Chapter 3, in which we see Severus muse on this conversation, and what the future might bring. If you enjoyed this chapter, I'd love to know about it, so feel free to send the love with a review. It helps to feed the muse, don't you know. And as an fyi - in the great push to actually finish this story, I wrote two more chapters. I think I'm up to 21 finished ones, with 20 or so left to go. Ish.

EDIT: continuity issues fixed. :) Thanks to whitehound and bigmommak. Possibly if I had a beta, this wouldn't have happened...