She grew to accept it, these weekly sessions, every Saturday evening. They alternated on whose bedroom they coupled in, slowly growing more comfortable in each. Hermione snuck a peek into Severus's lab; Severus examined her bookshelf and photos. It was the night they fell asleep in the same bed, though, that became a landmark.
They had been in his room and had finished. A lightning storm had struck up during their tryst and thunder came rolling down to the very bowels of the castle.
It turned very quickly into a violent storm, sending tree boughs thrashing violently, rain pounding every inch of the castle, and wind howling around the eaves. For the first time in years, Hermione cowered at the idea of a thunder storm, although she tried to pluck up the Gryffindor courage that had never failed her before.
It's just a little rain, and light, and sound, all mixed together to sound frightening, but it's really not. It's nature, science, that's all.
Regardless, the next thunderclap, which shook a glass of water on the nightstand, nearly sent her diving under the covers. She didn't want to appear easily scared in front of Snape, but she couldn't help it. Human beings were naturally afraid of too loud noises and too bright light.
She felt a hand on her back, warm and lightly calloused and turned her neck to see that Severus had moved under the sheets with her, had not quite slipped his arm around her. Her head relaxed onto the pillow as the hand rubbed circles on her spine, soothing her, although the very air seemed to quake throughout the storm.
The next thing she knew it was morning and there was a loose but strong arm around her, pining her to the bed. She couldn't move, could barely breathe, and panic set in as she wondered exactly where she was and what was going on.
Then she realized that she had fallen asleep last night in Severus's room after they were intimate, though she had never fallen slept there before. And he was actually holding her of all things. She tried to extract herself slowly and quietly, but years of playing double agent made him spring to life almost immediately.
She was pink and had the blanket pulled tight to her chest when he realized what was going on. Never would Hermione Granger have guessed that her Potions Master could stammer, or blush, but he did both, quickly letting her up. She grabbed her clothes and left, not knowing what to do or say to make the situation any better.
They still didn't talk that much, beyond the usual 'how was your day', 'did you get a lot of work done', or 'are you doing anything this weekend/evening'. Hermione was not that much closer to truly knowing her Potions Master, besides the one private conversation they'd had about their scars.
But he'd held her, put an arm around her when she was afraid, which was an achievement in the marriage if she'd ever seen one. By no means did they have a perfectly amicable relationship, they still fought often enough, but it wasn't all shouting and duty anymore. There were a few peaceful evenings when he would read the paper in an armchair and she would curl up on the sofa, stroking Crookshanks and reading a book.
Just the other week though, they'd had another screaming match, about school nonetheless. He said he would be turning all her assignments over to the Headmaster to grade, as being her husband giving her grades would seem biased. She had shot back that he had always given her lower marks than she deserved and why would that change now? It wasn't as if he cared about her.
That had stung him, she knew, and he had gone off on a lecture about students and teachers and appropriate relationships to be maintained. The fighting had gotten out of hand over such a stupid subject, and eventually she had gone to her room and charmed her door shut, effectively ending the argument.
Last night, though, had apparently smoothed over some tensions. She sat in her room, thinking about what had happened that was different than before. No deep conversation that she could remember, or particularly happy moments between them.
Today was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Snape planned to be out all day running errands. He'd told her as much before they'd gone to his bedroom the night before, and she had refused politely when he asked if she'd like to go with him. It wasn't supposed to be good weather and it being December and getting close to the holidays, shopping would be chaotic. She'd much rather stay inside and read, thank you.
She curled up in a sweater with Crookshanks, rereading her favorite book. Not even halfway through the cat lept off her lap and slunk through the door into Severus's bedroom. Hermione lept up and darted after him, hoping there wouldn't be damage.
The cat had slipped into the study and was sitting by the fireplace, tail swishing. Hermione stooped to pick up him up and couldn't help but notice something shiny lying in the ashes.
An engraved silver mask lay discarded in the fireplace. Her fingers stretched toward it involuntarily and she picked it up, dusting it off carefully. Crookshanks sat at her feet quietly, blinking in understanding.
Then Severus clattered into the room, paper wrapped packages balanced carefully in his arms. He dumped them on the floor and snatched the mask away from her, locking it into a drawer and glowering at her. She scooped up her cat and stared at the floor.
"What did I tell you about staying out of my personal space?"
"I wanted to make sure Crookshanks didn't destroy anything in here or else I wouldn't have come in." He frowned.
"That was my personal property and I resent that you are so entitled to believe you could barge in and touch what is rightfully mine." They began arguing then, going back and forth about her innocence or guilt.
Finally he grabbed her arm and wrestled her back into the main room.
"Now kindly stay out of my business," he sneered, and slammed the door as he went back into his private quarters.
Hermione seethed and plopped into a chair, picking her book up and angrily cracking the spine open to where she was before the incident started.
He's just a mean old bully, that's all. And I wouldn't have taken kindly to find him touching my books or pictures of mum and dad. His being a Death Eater is a sensitive subject.
She did her best to become absorbed in her book and left in silence she was successful. After an hour on her own Snape finally came back in looking sullen and flopped down into the armchair.
"I need you to come with me somewhere tonight." She blinked at him and shut the book, curious. The only place they went together was the dining hall, and they separated upon getting there.
"Where?" She finally managed to sputter out, and his face grew even more grim. His mouth set in an unpleasant line and she could only assume it was someplace considerably unpleasant.
"The Dark Lord has requested your presence at our meeting tonight." Hermione blanched, but there was more. "Most wives show up with their husbands, at least a handful of times once they're married. We've been wed nearly a month and he believes it's high time you show up for at least a couple of meetings to see what your husband does."
"And the Headmaster is okay with this?" Dumbledore had approved this notion of her accompanying him to a Death Eater meeting? But really, could they say no?
"We have little choice in the matter. You will come, you will wear black and sit quietly and speak only when spoken too. That is for your survival, understand?" She almost said 'yes sir' but the one time that had slipped out he'd been furious. She corrected herself at the last minute.
"Yes Severus."
҉
That evening after eating in the Great Hall Hermione tied back her hair, powdered her face, slipped into the only black dress she owned, and came to stand next to Severus. He nodded that she was dressed appropriately and then they Apparated away.
The Malfoy Manor was imposing but beautiful. Albino peacocks, sharply trimmed hedges, and curled black iron added both charm and eeriness. Hermione tripped along in heels, her hand through her husband's arm, trying to look more like a wife and less like a child playing dress up.
She didn't sit at the long ebony table but behind it, demure and silent. Narcissa Malfoy had been kind enough to give her a small smile and welcome her but everyone else frowned or stared. Draco was there too, sitting uncomfortably with his parents. He had married Astoria Greengrass, much to everyone's surprise, and she sat behind her husband as Hermione did.
They didn't dare look at each other.
The Dark Lord swooped in then and settled in his chair. A snake slithered around the room, hissed at newcomers' feet, and returned to her master. Hermione had nearly shrieked with fright at the animal but remembered Severus' warning to keep silent. Here, around such a different crowd, she couldn't be sure what her punishment would be if she disobeyed him.
At home if there was 'disobedience' perceived by one of them a shouting match usually ensued. Here though, things would be much different. He had authority, and it wouldn't do to publicly fight with him. So she obeyed as both their lives depended on it.
"I see we have some visitors with us today," Voldemort began. Hermione stared at the floor, not sure exactly where to look or what to do. She was still and silent, but was it okay to look at him? His followers did, but she wasn't a follower.
The Dark Lord inclined his head to Astoria. "And who would you be?" The girl went pale but managed to introduce herself.
"I'm Astoria Malfoy. P-pleasure to make your acquaintance, your lordship." There was chuckling from the Death Eaters but also smiles, even a wink from her husband. Astoria had clearly said the right thing. He turned to Hermione.
"And you are?" She raised her eyes.
"I'm Hermione Snape." She should have said sir at the least, she knew, but she couldn't bring herself to choke out those three little letters. Not after he'd murdered Cedric, Harry's parents, and had indirectly made her Obliviate her own.
The Dark Lord only had the time to raise his eyebrows at her disrespect before Severus stood and slapped her across the face. She flew off her chair and landed hard on the floor, a hand to her cheek. A red mark stood out on her flesh as she stared up at him in shock and pain.
But he wasn't her husband right now, he was the Dark Lord's favorite, the spy, and she dimply knew that he had to punish her or else it would have been much worse. He blinked at her and turned around, bowing to the Dark Lord.
"A thousand apologies my lord, I'm still trying to teach her proper respect." Voldemort nodded his acceptance as Hermione climbed back into her chair. She hung her head for the rest of the meeting.
Once they were back home she pulled her arm from his and marched straight for her room. She was angry, hurt, and although she could grudgingly understand his actions she did not want to accept them.
Severus caught her wrist and spun her around. Her face was beginning to develop a bruise and he cringed when he saw it. She stared at him, waiting for whatever was so important for him to say when she was in such a foul mood.
"Tonight is Saturday," he finally said and she clenched her eyes shut in disgust.
"I am not going to do anything with you after what your treatment of me this evening."
"Do you think I wanted to hit you? I've never raised a hand against you before, no matter how furious I was. The Dark Lord wouldn't have let that slip. He would have tortured both us, especially you, with Crucios' and...worse." He shuddered and continued. "A slap was the least we could get away with."
She knew he was right. Sullenly she let him lead her down the hallway, away from the refuge of her room, and into his own.