Disclaimer: I'm not kidding when I say that I'm not J.K.

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Vie des Poulets

Chapter 5

"Are you feeling better?"

The words made Hermione stop in her tracks, tracks so stealthy that she was not paying attention to the man whom she was trying to escape. Her eyes swiftly jumped to the man, who emerged from the lavatory with a wet cloth against his skull where she had hit him.

"I daresay I'll have to teach you how to wield a weapon better, that was some sorry bludgeoning, my dear."

Thinking more with her hands than her brain, Hermione drew his wand and pointed it at him. "Keep away from me!" she insisted.

With a small, supercilious smile, Snape put his hands in the air. "Granger, before you go off and make a beautifully orchestrated escape of yahooly foolish proportions, may I have a word?"

"You certainly may not!" Hermione exclaimed, but before all the words were out, a simple wandless expelliarmus sent Snape's wand flying back into his own hand. "Damn you!" she screeched in response.

Snape shrugged. "It would also behoove you to learn wandless magic, my dear. But you should have learned by this time that with this government, any question you may be asked is only perfunctory. Nobody gives a whit what you think, despite your academic and intellectual virtuosity."

The way he said 'this government', along with his backhanded compliment, made Hermione pursue the line of thought that perhaps he was not so fond of the new order of things as she had presumed. This idea was further reinforced as he gestured in a tired manner towards the horsehair couch opposite him. "However, things are just a shade less dire than you might think."

Her interest was piqued, though her trust was not won. Standing defensively, Hermione granted her captor the most sublime of sneers that she could muster. "Explain," she demanded callously.

"I would love to," Snape replied, his voice respectful, "However, it would be much more comfortable for both of us if you took a seat."

Seeing who had the upper hand, Hermione consented, flopping down on the couch in the most insolent of manners.

"I never said I would rule my personal domain with the kind of iron control that our lovely new government endorses, however, so if you would prefer to stand, I will fully understand."

He was enigmatic. He doesn't want to control me, but he wants me to do just as he says. What kind of nut case have I married? Sitting a little straighter, Hermione shook her carefully-shaped curls.

"I'm fine as I am."

Snape sadly smiled again. "You are not. Your wrists and neck are pulsing, your eyes hold hatred, and your toes are clenched even in your delicate shoes. I know that the circumstances must mandate a certain amount of fear and distrust, but surely you can see by now that I have no intention of hurting you?"

"I can't be so certain of that."

He switched the hand that applied pressure to his forehead wound with the opposite one as he mediated upon an answer. "I don't know what you went through, Miss Granger--"

Hermione sneered. "It's Mrs. Snape now, by the way. You do my husband disrespect."

The aforementioned husband looked slightly pained. "Your husband, whom I ought to mention is not really your husband, is a wretched sod who is completely unworthy of you. Nothing he does could ever recompense you for his breach of your individual will. But soft!" He appeared to have remembered something, and he quickly started throwing charms in a practiced fashion around them. When a Cone of Silence had been established--Hermione could see a thin bubble-like film encompassing them as a result of his work--he explained, "I forget, the walls have ears. Have you, perchance, ever read 1984? George Orwell?"

She nodded, instantly recognizing what he meant. "Oh God."

He looked at the table. "Then you recognize the environment we're in. Even I, one of Voldemort's most trusted, cannot ensure my total and complete privacy. I only hope my words from before . . ." He shook his head vigorously. "No, I don't think I said anything too damning. The fools on the monitors probably don't understand sarcasm anyway."

Hermione's fear factor was tripled. "So they can hear every word we say, watch whatever we do?"

He nodded. "Within and without reason. Can't even be sure the loo's private--there are a number of perverts down there at the monitor station who probably keep tabs on people's private business. Anyhow, this modified bubble-head charm, plus a few others of my own derivation, have proven an efficient safeguard. We can't use them more than once in a while, though. Despite this, we're fortunate--the common man cannot cast unapproved spells and charms without getting a whole team of HAAs on their tails."

"HAAs are . . .what exactly?"

Snape sniffed. "Honest Age Aurors. Everything's got Honest Age tacked onto it these days. Honest Age Floo System. Honest Age Government. Honest Age Wireless. Honest Age Warfare. Honest Age Ministry. I'm an Honest Age Warrick, which is essentially a head ambassador and negotiator. But as I said, since our favorite Dark Lord took over, it's been all about the Honest Age in which Wizards and Muggles can live and work alongside each other. The only honest thing about it, though, is the fact that it's selectively honest in the best circumstances. Most of it is flat-out lies. I can tell you this from deep knowledge--I'm pretty much the equivalent of Neville Chamberlain to the Dark Lord."

It was clear at this point, however, where his sympathy lay.

"But you don't want this system to exist," Hermione inferred, feeling enormously relieved.

"No more than I want Vladimir Putin to harness his people with a sick kind of communism emulating Stalin's, the imperiused George Bush to enslave helpless millions in the poverty of South America and the Middle East, or China to go imperialistic on Asia and Australia. We've got it relatively good here in what used to be jolly old England, compared to the strife in the rest of the world today. Despite the fact that there's not even the semblance of individual liberty any more. After England fell . . . well, her fall was a catalyst to infect the whole world with nonsense."

His eyes darted back and forth, and he suddenly sighed. "It's a relief, let me say, to be able to voice these thoughts aloud. Officially, it's treason."

Hermione nodded, understanding. "So what are you doing?"

Snape shook his head. "First and foremost--trying to survive, staying on the Dark Lord's good side while I'm at it."

"But to . . . oh God, this sounds ridiculous . . . what are you doing to save the world?"

At least he had a mild sense of humor; he snorted. "Let's just say . . . while it seems that I'm doing nothing but furthering the extent of the craziness, I have already begun to enact plans for salvation. I'm not insolent enough to compare myself to God, but metaphorically speaking, I've already told Noah to build the arc and I'm holding my breath until the seas rise."

He frowned. "Even this allusion is treason--all religion besides worship of the Dark Lord is forbidden. He's become a kind of Pharaoh. It's sickening."

"Oh dear."

Hermione had mellowed a lot by now, and she realized that any attempt to escape really would have been fruitless. She sighed.

"So, well, I imagine I'm going to be part of all this?"

He nodded. "Of course. Why do you think I married you? Believe me, it's not because I'm in need of some whore, though that was one of the primary motivations I gave to convice the Dark Lord."

Hermione understood. "Oh, well, I am somewhat relieved. I really had no idea. I--I'm sorry for coshing your brain in."

Snape waved it away easily. "That's all right. I quite deserved it, for taking such liberties with your mind. And . . . kissing you without any permission. And because I'm a generally low-down bit of scum anyway."

She did not bother to reply to this, instead pursuing, "So, what plan do you have for me? What can I do?"

Snape looked her directly in the eye. "You, my dear Miss Granger, are going to be the queen of England. Jean I."

Her jaw dropped. He had said that he was a high-ranking official, but she had not supposed he had that much power.

"I'm being completely serious. Queen Elizabeth II, God rest her soul, is dead. I believe it was heart attack. Her family has been murdered. Except you."

Her eyes widened. "I think you're making a mistake; I'm not related to the Queen! Christ, if I were, do you think my parents would be dentists?"

Snape sighed. "You miss my point. Whether you are really royalty or not is irrelevant--the main thing is, you're a witch, you're intelligent, and you're young. You are to claim inheritance of the throne through cousinhood, and assume all of her responsibilities."

Hermine balked. "Voldemort would never agree to this, would he?"

"Of course he would, and he has." A smug smirk rose on his face. "You forget that I can be unusually . . . persuasive."

What? Have I forgotten something? "I don't think I knew, sir."

The 'sir' bit just slipped out--she had not seen him since her days at school, where he was her teacher and demanded the respect of such.

His smirk died. "True, you never earned yourself much detention in the dungeons. Neville in particular found it quite different, though." He shrugged. "Well, no matter. The point is, our favorite Dark Lord is not truly as formidable as you might think, though I would never allow him to realize it. But don't ever call me 'sir'--it must be Severus from now on."

He looked at the clock on the mantel. "We're almost out of time. We run out of air quickly in this bubble. Before we resume the life of 'loving husband and wife', I want to let you know that our union, as solidified today, is not, in my opinion, a true or honest one. Hence why I did not put the ring on your finger. When and if you like, I would not be averse to making it official under God, but that rigmarole we endured today was in no way a marriage. Please, Miss Granger, do me the honor of at least considering it partnership of a way. A business relationship, possibly a friendship, but we will have no need to exchange any physical affections."

Hermione nodded. "That's fine."

Snape nodded in return. "Excellent. One last thing--don't eat the food they give you."

Sensing her throat tightening--We're running out of air--Hermione asked, "Why?"

"It's modified to supersaturated calorie content--will make you horrendously obese. Tons of MSGs so you'll be inclined to eat too much of it." He, apparently, was feeling the effects of limited air, too, due to his briefer syntax. "Yours is not to question why, get the drift?"

"Fine, I won't ask why. Do you know?"

"Not sure. Theories, but not sure. Just don't eat much. You found the olives--feast to your heart's content, I get them wholesale. Stay skinny. Only hope."

Hermione was puzzled and had more questions, but she could not breathe any more, Snape was starting to turn blue, and she suspected she was too, so he started to let down the charms. However, he was not fast enough, for suddenly everything turned black . . .

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