Sorry this is so long in coming. The story has not been abandoned. I'll try to update more faithfully in the next few months. Thank you for reading, and as ever, I really encourage reviews. Even just a few words mean a lot to me!
"Facing it, always facing it, that's the way to get through. Face it."
― Joseph Conrad
Chapter 6: Facing it
A week passed, and Hermione marked the beginning of October. Harry and Ron had begun to relax around her. At times, they seemed to forget her impending marriage, and everything seemed back to normal. But something always reminded them that she would soon become Mrs. Snape, and once again they would tiptoe around her. She pretended that didn't hurt.
It did.
Luckily, she had Ginny, who was always good at distracting her from her worries. Ginny always had entertaining anecdotes from around the school, and she was rather good at retelling stories of amusing situations. She could be a good listener, too, which Hermione needed whenever she felt overwhelmed.
So the week passed, and Hermione worked even harder in her classes. It was as if she needed to prove to herself that she was fine, that she was unaffected by the changes.
She wasn't.
On Friday, Professor Snape returned another essay and she saw that once again, he had scrawled a note in the margin. He wanted her to come to his office on Saturday at three. As she left the classroom, she raised her chin in a curt nod of acknowledgement.
So, Saturday at precisely three o'clock Hermione found herself outside Snape's office once again. She raised her hand to knock, but the door opened before she could make a sound. She dropped her hand quickly, flustered.
"Miss Granger," he stated emotionlessly. His figure seemed to fill the entire doorway. Had he always been so much larger than life?
Hermione quickly recovered her wits. "Professor Snape. You asked to see me?"
He looked irritated. "Of course I asked to see you. Is that not why you're here, Miss Granger?"
It was not really a question. She answered anyways. "Yes, sir."
"Come in, then." He closed the door behind her. "I thought perhaps it would be best for you to see my chambers before we are married." He enunciated the last word with a harshness that indicated his feelings towards their impending nuptials.
He reached for a handful of Floo powder, and Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly. "Sir, why can't we walk to your quarters? It's just that I'm not even sure I know how to get there on foot."
He sighed with obvious exasperation. "Obviously it would raise questions if someone were to see you wandering through the dungeons, so you will use the Floo network. Use your head, girl." He threw the green powder into the fireplace, and grabbed her elbow without warning, dragging her with him into the fire. "Severus Snape's chambers," he enunciated pointedly.
They were spinning at a dizzying rate, and all Hermione could see were the green flames and his dark figure. They stopped abruptly, and Hermione barely kept herself from stumbling over.
She adjusted herself to the new setting. They stood in a living room, reasonably sized and comfortably furnished. The room was dimly lit and full of shadows, but she recognized a sofa, a table, and a small bookshelf, as well as a few doors branching off to other rooms.
As she cast her eyes around, Snape muttered a spell and several lanterns began to glow, throwing the shadows into relief. She could now see an armchair in the corner, and the large door across the room that could only be the main entrance.
"These are my quarters. I have adjusted the wards to grant you access through the Floo network and the main door. The password is 'Heysechia.'"
He continued at a rapid pace.
"The door at the far end leads to my study. Please ask permission before examining any of the books in my personal library. They are some titles that I would prefer you not peruse. The door inside the study goes to my personal laboratory. There is a separate ward on that door, so you cannot enter that space without my presence. The door to your immediate left leads to your room."
He looked at the remaining door. "And that is my room."
In the awkward pause that followed, Hermione supplied the rest of his sentence. His room… and our marriage bed.
She gathered her thoughts. "Sir, we will be married soon, an it just seems as though it might be more… natural if you were to call me Hermione."
"Very well then. Hermione."
Another tense pause followed, before he continued, "Since we are to be married, Hermione, it would be fitting if you were to call me Severus. I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the need for discretion when addressing me outside of these quarters."
"I understand, sir—Severus," she hastily corrected. Casting another look around, she found it hard to believe that she was actually seeing the inside of her mysterious professor's quarters. Hermione felt like such an intruder, and could hardly imagine herself sitting at the small table across from the dour man, sharing a cup of tea and a chat about the daily news. How in Merlin's name could she be marrying him in just a few days?
As Severus entered the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore looked up from his scratching quill with forced cheerfulness. "Severus. Thank you for coming to my office. How are you, my boy?"
"As well as can be expected, Albus," he sighed, sweeping his robe dramatically as he took a seat to face the Headmaster's inquisition.
"Excellent! And how is Miss Granger? Are the plans for the wedding proceeding well?"
"It will happen as scheduled, yes."
He could detect a mild disappointment in Dumbledore's eyes at his terse responses, but the Headmaster continued. "Have you given any thought to a ring, yet?"
"Among the few items I inherited from the Prince estate was a family wedding ring. It will suffice."
"Wonderful. Wonderful. And has she seen her new quarters?"
"I showed her my chambers today, yes." Severus placed just the right amount of emphasis on 'my' to convey his distaste for the looming invasion of privacy.
"Very good. She plans to live there on weekends, I understand?"
Severus grimaced. "That appears to be how this must unfold, yes. She must spend some time there, in order to make this sham seem a reality."
Dumbledore smiled slightly. "My boy, I know it is difficult for you to see things in the positive. I do believe, however, that if you approach this new relationship with an open mind, you may just find that sharing your life with another is not the nightmare you imagine."
Severus did not acknowledge the Headmaster with a response.
It seemed to Hermione that the week passed faster than ever. It was as if by trying to hold onto every moment of normality that still existed, she had only managed to push the hours by even faster. She relished the mundane. A dull, ordinary day was infinitely preferable to the life-altering events ahead.
Saturday came too soon. Hermione could still remember when weekends were rewards at the end of long weeks of stressful schoolwork. This weekend, however, was no reward. Ginny had convinced her to go shopping in Diagon Alley, and had even gotten special permission from Professor Dumbledore for the expedition. Hermione protested, but she was silenced by Ginny's fierce glare. Ginny had already made an appointment, and the redheaded girl could be dangerous when provoked.
Hermione's one stipulation was that they go in disguise. She didn't want to attract any unwanted notice. The seventeen-year-old friend of Harry Potter seen shopping for wedding robes would gather a lot of unwanted attention from the press. Ginny had agreed, so the two friends wore clever glamours that disguised them just enough to be unrecognizable.
And so it was that early Saturday morning, a dishwater blond and her black-haired friend strode into Madame Malkin's shop inquiring about wedding robes.
The shop assistant smiled widely, cooing her excitement. Hermione could barely keep her eyes from rolling, but she forced a tight smile and accepted the girl's congratulations. Madame Malkin strode out to greet "Miss Grant" and "Miss Wells" personally, and to offer some recommendations. Hermione nodded along with them, and Ginny helped pick some robes to try. In the privacy of the dressing room, Hermione dropped the glamours. After all, she had to see the robes on herself, since she wouldn't be "Miss Grant" any other time.
The first robes she tried on were not her style at all. Too puffy, with ornate frills and flounces. The second pair was too shear, the third too glittery. She began to despair, and after seven or eight failures, she resolved to simply transfigure something out of her normal robes. However, Ginny reappeared with a new set, and Hermione found that it fit her perfectly. The material was gauzy, and draped her figure in all the right places. The skirt was full, but reasonable, and Hermione knew immediately that she had found her robes.
Twenty minutes later, they left Madame Malkins, mission accomplished. Hermione was ready to return to Hogwarts, but Ginny grabbed her hand and announced, "Hermione, you need a ring for Snape!"
"Professor Snape, Ginny," she reminded her friend, deflecting Ginny's astute observation.
She did, in fact, need a ring.
They found a jeweler a few shops down the street. Hermione approached the shop assistant. "Do you make wedding rings?" she enquired in her most polite and professional voice.
"We do indeed. I would be happy to help you, Miss…?"
"Grant," she supplied.
He flashed a smile. "What sort of ring are you looking for, Miss Grant?"
She bit her lip, trying to picture Snape wearing jewelry. "Something simple. But elegant."
"What sort of metal?"
She thought for a moment, settling on platinum for its durability and lack of reaction to most potions. The assistant spent a moment at the case, pondering options.
"Would this do?"
It was a simple band: smooth and rounded at the edges. There were no adornments of any kind.
"That will do fine, thank you." That had been much easier than she'd thought!
"What size?"
Hermione blinked. She had no idea how to size Snape's fingers!
The shopkeeper saw her indecision, and offered an automatic sizing spell, for a small fee, which she accepted.
"Would you like the marriage runes to be on the inside or outside, Miss?"
"I'm sorry?" She asked in confusion
"The wedding runes, Miss Grant?"
Oh yes, she had nearly forgotten. They had studied wedding runes in Ancient Runes a few years ago. The runes representing seven aspects of the marriage would appear during the ceremony and in the months following. She didn't think that Snape—no, she amended her thoughts: Severus— would want to display his runes to the world.
"On the inside, please."
He told her the price, and she nodded calmly, flushing slightly. She had enough money, but it irritated her to be spending so much in one weekend, especially without buying any books.
Severus could feel a headache building as the Dark Lord's monthly revel drew to a close. Voldemort approached him, and he focused harder to guard his thoughts.
"You did not partake of this evening's entertainment, Severusss," the Dark Lord hissed.
"I did not, my Lord," Severus responded with a bow.
"You are not yet a married man, my friend," his master observed.
Severus fought to keep himself from tensing. "No, my Lord. Dumbledore has set Friday as the date of our… joyful ceremony."
"Excellent, my friend. Excellent." Voldemort's lips tightened in what might possibly pass as a smile. "Has your Mudblood told the Potter boy, yet?"
"She has, my Lord," Severus answered. "He is angry, confused, and upset, but his trust in Dumbledore keeps him from confronting me directly. Their friendship remains intact, but strained."
"Perfect. It is imperative that they remain close, if you are going to exploit their bond."
A cleverly disguised order "Yes, my Lord," Severus acknowledged.
"Do you have a plan, Severus?"
"My Lord, I will gain the Mudblood's trust slowly, and learn what Dumbledore tells Potter in their private sessions. Then, at the proper moment, I will turn her against her friend. She is young. Weak. She will not be difficult to influence." He pushed his emotions and several altered memories to the front of his consciousness.
"Of all my servants, Severus, I have chosen you for this mission. Do not fail me, my loyal friend." Voldemort dismissed him.
"Thank you, my Lord."
He left one master, knowing that another waited for him as soon as he apparated back to Scotland. It would be quite a while until he could raid his stores for a headache potions. Of course, all the potions in the world could not cure the greatest headache of them all—the unwanted wedding accelerating towards him that would further complicate this already tumultuous and precarious situation.