Severus's leather couch was much cozier than it first appeared. With her legs folded under her, A Study in Advanced Charms open on her lap, and a jasmine tea in hand, Hermione had no doubt that even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would be jealous. Her only minor complaint was the night's chill, quite pervasive for the fledgling autumn. She pulled her jumper tighter around her. He looked up from his own text, his gaze taking in her skirmish with the falling temperature. Severus smiled knowingly. "Incindio," he commanded, calling the fire to life. With a flick of his wand, a large woolen blanket appeared. He tucked it around her and returned to his research.
Hermione smiled in thanks and immersed herself in the textbook in her lap once more. She had barely started Chapter 5: Substantive Charms when she felt his fingers pushing to entwine with hers. She glanced up. His eyes hadn't left the volume in front of him. Severus seemed to have reached for her hand absentmindedly; he was absorbed in his book, yet he sought her out in the companionable silence.
The warmth she suddenly felt had nothing to do with the new fire or the emerald and silver wool blanketing her shoulders.
"I'm tired," Hermione stretched and closed her book after enduring an hour of the pros and cons of casting advanced substantives.
"Let's go to bed." Her Potions Master stood and offered his hand. "How are your ribs feeling?"
"Better. Not one hundred percent, but very close." They walked to the bedroom, fingers interlaced. "I'm sure by tomorrow…" she smiled mischievously and glanced up at him.
"I'm glad to hear it. But that's not why I asked, angel."
She tucked herself in next to him in the mahogany bed that had, not too long ago, appeared far too large and far too terrifying for her. With Severus lining her back, now it seemed perfect. She sighed happily. Snuggling deeper into the sheets made toasty by his warming charm, she closed her eyes and welcomed sleep.
Hermione felt herself being thrown across a dimly lit hall. Her head slammed into the door across from her own. Ron stomped after her, grabbing her jumper and dragging her up so that she was level with the madness in his eyes. He started to speak but it wasn't Ron's voice she heard. "Herrmioneee…" She looked again and watched in horror as Ron's nose became slits and his blue eyes became red. "Yessss…time for you to die, Mudblood." Cold terror gripped her. He reached out a black, withered hand and pushed her towards the edge of the stair. Suddenly it was Bellatrix who was standing in front of her brandishing a dagger, its shiny blade pointed at her arm. She laughed. Hermione tumbled over backwards in a never ending plunge downward into darkness.
"Hermione! Hermione! Wake up!"
Hermione opened her eyes to discover Severus staring at her, worry etched into his brow. His hands were on her shoulders. She gasped. She was dripping in sweat and she was certain her heart was about to claw its way out of her chest.
"Shhh. It's okay. I'm here."
It all came out it in a rush. "But Vold—Ron was at Grimmauld and pushed me only it wasn't Ron at all, it was Voldemort, and he was speaking to me, and then it was Bellatrix, and I fell and fell and it felt like I was never going to stop. I was—" She started to weep.
"Here, get closer." Severus surrounded her with his warmth. "It's going to be all right, Hermione. The Dark Lord and Bellatrix are gone. Forever. They can't hurt you anymore. Mr. Weasley can't hurt you anymore."
"I'm sorry I woke you," she managed through her tears.
"It's okay. You were screaming, angel. So I woke you." He pulled her even closer. "I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."
"I don't suppose you can keep Voldemort and Ron and Bellatrix from showing up in my dreams, though," she whispered.
"As a matter of fact, I can." He smiled softly and brushed an unruly curl from her face. "What kind of a Potions Master would I be if I didn't have any Dreamless Sleep?"
Minerva McGonagall slammed the Daily Prophet down on the kitchen table, narrowly missing the remains of their breakfast. Crumbs flew. Hermione's coffee mug vibrated, threatening to topple. She grabbed it before it spilled and rewarded herself with a sip.
"Would either of you care to explain this?" McGonagall huffed.
Hermione bit back a laugh. How many times had she, Harry, and Ron heard similar words from her erstwhile Transfiguration professor? And now McGonagall was barking them at Severus? Brave woman. Brave, but maybe not that smart. She peered down at the headline of the Daily Prophet. Her mirth evaporated.
Brutal Attack on War Hero Fueled by Jealous Rage
Is Hermione Granger's New Lover the Cause of Her Split with Ronald Weasley?
The Daily Prophet has learned the reason behind the lovers' spat between Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, which landed Miss Granger in the infirmary at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with significant injuries. As the Prophet reported several months ago, the two War Heroes and Orders of Merlin, Second Class, were believed to have been intimately involved and had unofficial plans to bond.
Prophet sources confirm, however, that Miss Granger has been spotted several times within the past few weeks with none other than Order of Merlin, First Class, Severus Snape, current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Miss Granger and Headmaster Snape have been nearly inseparable during his recuperation from near-fatal injuries sustained during the Battle of Hogwarts, and have been seen strolling along the lake adjacent to the school Headmaster Snape oversees.
Likewise, Headmaster Snape has not left Miss Granger's side as she recovers from last week's injury. Sources at the Hogwarts Infirmary confirm that Miss Granger had indeed been pushed down several flights of stairs at her home after an explosive row with Ronald Weasley.
Could this new 'relationship' have been the reason for the lovers' spat that landed Miss Granger in the infirmary? Why would War Hero Miss Granger foster such a close—and very likely intimate—relationship with a wizard nearly twice her age who is also one of her former professors?
She glanced up at Severus. Her Potions Master face was impassive. I'm just going to let him handle McGonagall. "It is true that Miss Granger was thrown down a flight of stairs at Grimmauld Place by Mr. Weasley. She was released from Poppy's care just yesterday."
"I am unable to comprehend as to why—" Professor McGonagall began.
"Minerva. Mr. Weasley will have to speak for himself on this matter."
Her lips thinned. "And where, pray tell, is Mr. Weasley so I might have a word?"
"In custody at the Ministry."
"As he should be. But that's not why I'm here." She pointed a bony finger at the Prophet, eyes locked on the Headmaster. "Is this true?"
"As I stated, Miss Granger—"
"You know I'm not referring to that. You two. Is it true?"
"Yes." His eyes were fixed on his colleague, daring the older woman to make another comment.
McGonagall straightened her spine, yanked her robes tighter around her, and accepted the dare. "Miss Granger is a child. Not ready for the likes of you, Severus Snape."
He quirked an eyebrow at this, and continued his hard stare.
Hermione felt herself flush in anger. A child? "Professor, you do realize I am standing right here, don't you?" Minerva McGonagall didn't even bother to turn towards her, much less respond.
"Do you understand how this will look to the Board of Governors?" the professor sniped at Severus.
"Do you understand how little I care?" He turned away from McGonagall to look out the kitchen window. He smirked. "Allow me to tender my resignation. Effective immediately."
"Severus, you cannot—"
He swung back at her and the Transfiguration professor took what appeared to be an involuntary step backward. "Truly, Minerva. What did you think I would say? Do you think I would deny what I have found with Miss Granger because it makes you uncomfortable? Or because it's better for your bloody school? Did you think you could come into our home and insult me—us—just so you could make your conscience feel better?"
"I—"
"It is obvious this is not to your liking. I understand that you would not have chosen me for your precious Gryffindor. You would rather see her trapped for the rest of her life with Mr. Weasley—even though she would have to endure being beaten by the drunken imbecile—simply because Ronald Weasley is who you had planned for her," he spat. "No concern for her safety. No thought to her happiness, as ever. Not everyone aspires to be as miserable and lonely as you!"
"That's enough!" Professor McGonagall bellowed, her magic crackling around her.
"Hardly. How dare you come here? To our home? And call us to task for some imagined indecency?" He paused and smiled a cold smile. "I have given you what you wanted all along—as of this moment, I am no longer part of your illustrious staff."
"Severus, if you—"
"Deputy Headmistress, Miss Granger is still healing. I'm certain she is in need of rest," he said quietly. "Please leave us, if you would, to our morning."
No one spoke as Minerva McGonagall huffed her way out the front door and Disapparated.
As angry as she was at Professor McGonagall, Hermione's heart swelled. This man—this man she adored—had just stood up for their fledgling relationship. He had gone so far as to surrender his position in the process. "Severus, don't resign. I'll use the Time Turner. I'll make sure it never happened."
"It's not the answer, Hermione. You know this. You can't undo what has been done. The Time Turner doesn't work that way," he said gently. "He would find another, similar way to hurt you." He pulled her into his arms. "Besides," he smirked, "I intended to resign anyway. It was…pleasurable to play my hand when her anger had her so tight-lipped she couldn't think straight." He bent to brush a kiss on her forehead.
"Severus, you said pleasurable, hand, tight, and lip in the same sentence," she said, his kiss buoying her out of the mood McGonagall left in her wake.
"So I did," he said in a low growl, nipping at her ear. "You missed play however."
"I'm glad you caught that." She brought his fingers to her lips. "But you weren't even talking about me. I do believe I'm jealous." She started to nibble the inside of his wrist. "And twisting the Deputy Headmistress's words like that? Very bad. Incorrigible, even." She wrapped her lips around the tip of his forefinger and drew it out languidly.
"Obviously, someone as incorrigible as me should not venture out of the house…"
"Certainly not…" She feathered a kiss on his neck. "It would be unseemly."
"Improper."
"Tawdry, even."
A tap-tap-tap on the window glass announced the arrival of owl-post. Hermione sighed. A Ministry owl was waiting impatiently on the sash. She retrieved the parchment and tipped the bird with a remnant of their breakfast that had made its way to the floor. Unrolling the parchment, she said, "Well, fuck. Kingsley's coming back. In an hour."
"Language, Miss Granger," Severus drawled, mischief in his eyes, forcing her back against the counter and driving in so close, she had to part her legs to make room for him.
"Did you hear a word I said?" she asked playfully.
"I heard two very delicious words, angel." His velvet voice wrapped around her belly. "I also heard we have an hour to kill."
"Welcome, Minister."
"Thank you, Hermione. Severus."
Her Potions Master crossed his legs languidly and settled into the couch in the sitting room. He gestured for Kingsley to follow suit as the Headmaster's elves bustled in to serve tea and biscuits, their eyes bright with the pleasure of serving the assembled company. Hermione settled in next to Severus and tried to arrange her hands on her lap. Severus spoke first. "Miss Granger has carefully considered her options on how she would like to proceed."
"Very good." Kingsley nodded and reached for a cup.
"During our…evaluation, we discovered that there is a mandatory thirty day sentence for offenses such as these," Severus said, lifting an eyebrow and gifting the Minister an unrelenting stare.
Kingsley shifted in his seat. "Yes. Well, that's true. That is—"
"You bloody well knew. Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione spat. Severus covered her hands with his own, presumably in an attempt to calm her.
Kingsley sighed. "It wasn't a matter of keeping it from you, Hermione. I was certain Severus would investigate. And there was a good chance he was already aware…" Kingsley turned away then, looking out the window. Was he were trying to spare Severus from being embarrassed? "Arthur knows. We are both trying to keep it from Molly for now. She's been teetering on the verge of a breakdown ever since Fred's death. Arthur wants to be the one to break it to her. He…hasn't had the courage yet."
Hermione huffed. "That doesn't make any sense. Molly Weasley would know about the thirty days. She's not Muggle-born, like me. Even if she wasn't aware of it, someone else that knew could have said something to her," Hermione pointed out.
"Also true," Kingsley conceded. "But she's been so upset, she's not left the Burrow. Won't talk to anyone. Won't see anyone. Won't even read the Prophet."
"Someone needs to tell her," Hermione said. Even though Molly Weasley had been less than comforting after her injury at Ron's hands, Hermione still believed a mother had certain, well, rights.
"Arthur will when the time comes." Kingsley stood and strolled to the window. "Look, as Minister you need supporters and Arthur and Molly are two of my biggest. I need the Weasleys, plain and simple," he continued as he stared out to the front lawn. "The wizarding world is still on edge. This is—"
"Bullshite," Severus said, cutting across him levelly. "We need the reason you don't want him in Azkaban, Shacklebolt."
Kingsley stiffened and said nothing for a moment. "Fine, Snape. I suppose I'd never be able to effectively hide it from you, anyway." He turned towards them, his jaw set, his eyes hard. "I want to step down as Minister. I agreed to take the job to get us through the bumps after the war, but now…I don't enjoy politics. I need to set up a successor. One that will be widely accepted. Widely liked. One without a son in Azkaban."
"So Barty Crouch is still discussed in the Ministry's hallowed halls?" Severus said snidely.
"The wizarding world needs Arthur Weasley as Minister."
Sweet Merlin. The bumbling man who could have been her father-in-law leading the entire government? She wanted change in the Ministry, but this…Hermione barked a laugh. "I literally can't believe you said that." She felt her face flush. "But Arthur Weasley is perfect politically, isn't he? A pureblood yet indulgingly tolerant of Muggle-borns? A prominent member of the Order who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts? Lost a son in the war? Near foster father to the Savior of the Wizarding World? Shall I go on?" Severus gripped her hand tighter and she bit her lip in an effort to cut herself off. She took a breath. "So indulge us. How are you going to make the thirty day sentence disappear—and pave the way for Mr. Weasley to take over?"
"I am acquainted with…a relatively new loophole. A special dispensation for an Order of Merlin recipients."
"Is the ink dry on it yet, Shacklebolt?" Severus said quietly. Dangerously.
"Maybe. Maybe not." Kingsley looked smug. "War heroes are so damaged. Traumatized. Sometimes they do things without thinking. It's simply a precaution, should anything…untoward happen as they sort themselves out after the war."
Hermione huffed a laugh. "And you said you weren't a politician."
"I said I didn't enjoy politics. I didn't say I wasn't a politician." Kingsley looked pointedly at Severus. "Hell, if it had been my witch he'd thrown down the stairs..." He sighed. "I'm not sure I wouldn't be in Azkaban right now." She felt Severus tense beside her. "I wager you want some jail time. But I was hoping you'd see the bigger picture." The men continued to stare at each other. "Especially you two. It's not like you're strangers to self-sacrifice for the greater good."
Hermione snorted at that. "I fail to see how the promotion of Arthur Weasley to Minister could be classified as 'for the greater good'."
Kingsley didn't respond to the jibe. "Should you pursue a trial, which is your right, let me forewarn you that you may find the Wizengamot…unlikely to agree with your point of view." He smiled smugly again. "Arthur and I have been working on this for a while. It's a shame this happened right now, after everything we've put in place. As for Molly, you'll just have to forgive her. She can be rather…"
"Irrational?" Hermione supplied.
Kingsley nodded in her direction indulgently. "Irrational when it comes to protecting her family."
"If you would excuse us, Minister," Severus said, rising from the couch. "Hermione and I have several things to discuss. Thank you for coming."
"May I count on you?" Kingsley said, offering his hand.
"As I said," Severus responded, taking the Minister's hand, "We have much to discuss."
"Minister Arthur Weasley? Merlin help the lot of us!" Hermione said, exasperated, as soon as Kingsley had Disapparated. "Really, Arthur Weasley leading the wizarding world? They really want someone who thinks Muggles are fascinating, clever little creatures that should be studied with wry amusement like a particularly intelligent lab rat? The Ministry is going to use him up and spit him out when they're through."
"Ronald Weasley's consequences be damned," Severus said.
"Ronald Weasley's consequences be damned." Hermione sighed. She leaned into him and he put his arms around her. "Even if the thirty days are no longer mandatory, we can still pursue a trial. Kingsley could be bluffing. I doubt he has enough money or power to have the entire Wizengamot is in his pocket."
"Even if the entire Wizengamot is not in his pocket, I'm certain Shacklebolt commands significant influence there. A trial would not guarantee Mr. Weasley's incarceration."
"Yeah. Damaged war hero and whatnot." Hermione sighed again and snuggled closer into his chest. "What should we do?"
"I have a suggestion." She felt the smile on his face through his words. "It's not significantly different than the original plan, but it may suffice."
Hermione looked up at him and smiled in response.
"The thirty day sentence no longer applies to recipients of the Order of Merlin?" Harry actually jumped up as if this piece of news forced him out of his chair. Bits of sandwich shot off the table in his wake. Hermione idly wondered if she would ever be able to keep the floor of the cottage clean from bits of food with the way visitors seemed to react during conversations as of late. Maybe she should task that job to the Headmaster's elves. Or get a crup.
"As of this morning," Severus said with a sneer.
"That arse. He needs to be brought up of charges of corruption." Harry bit the words out as he began to pace the kitchen floor.
"It is likely Shacklebolt has significant influence in the Wizengamot. I would not rely on them coming to the…obvious conclusion," Severus responded, his sneer deepening. "And bringing Shacklebolt up on charges doesn't change the fact that Mr. Weasley remains unpunished and Miss Granger remains in danger."
"Harry, he doesn't want to stay Minister anyway. He won't care. He'll just resign. The law's already changed. The damage is done."
"Wait. Kingsley doesn't want to stay Minister?" Harry stopped his pacing to regard Hermione.
"No. He wants Arthur Weasley to take the position."
"What?"
Severus answered for her. "Therefore, from Shacklebolt's viewpoint, it is imperative that Weasley's son does not get sent to Azkaban. It would erode the support so sorely needed in this...time of rebuilding and unity." Hermione had never seen a sneer as grand as the one on Severus's face.
"He's going to let Ron get off because the powers that be want Arthur to be Minister? That's mad." Harry paused for a minute. "Even though the thirty days are no longer mandatory, we can still go forward with a case and bring it to trial, right?"
"Yes. But again, I would not be certain of the outcome in the Wizengamot."
"I'll pull every string. I'll call in every favor. I'm the bloody Chosen One for fuck's sake. Of anyone, I should be able to send someone to Azkaban."
"Harry." Hermione said, calling Harry back from his rant. "Severus and I have an idea." She glanced at Severus. "But we'll have to get Kingsley to agree to it." She paused. "One more infraction and we won't need to go to court at all. It will be much less messy, much less public, and you won't have to pull any strings. It will be better for Ron, better for Severus. And better for me."
"Go on."
Severus continued for her. "In lieu of a trial or the thirty days, we demand my tracking charm is permanent. And should Mr. Weasley break it, he is automatically remanded to Azkaban without a trial."
"Well…" Harry said after a moment, "that might work."
"It accomplishes the goal of keeping Mr. Weasley away from Miss Granger and assures that Mr. Weasley alone bares the responsibility for keeping his behavior in check."
"What about his wand?" Harry asked.
"As in, what if he uses it for spells against Miss Granger?"
"Exactly."
"I will never leave her side when she is beyond our wards. And if you think I cannot protect her…" Severus gifted Harry a dark stare.
Harry retreated. Somewhat. "I would never say that, Professor."
"And Ron doesn't have enough strength, talent, or intention to cast an Unforgivable," Hermione added.
"I don't know, Hermione. You know how angry Ron's been since we lost Fred."
"I do believe the charm is our best course of action based on the current atmosphere at the Ministry and knowing Miss Granger's…tendencies," Severus added, his face stoic.
"What does that mean?" Hermione barked, her voice rising a notch.
Harry rounded on her. "It means we know you. You'll want to forgive him and you'll do it too early. You'll feel guilty about sending him to Azkaban. You'll put yourself at risk."
"The permanent charm will resolve many of these issues," Severus said.
Harry locked eyes with Severus. "So…we talking about permanent as in, Ron never gets near her again?"
Hermione saw Severus bite back a retort, probably along the likes of shall I get you an English dictionary, Mr. Potter? "Yes. Unless Miss Granger agrees to the charm's removal. And I will not allow the bleeding heart Gryffindor do that without serious consideration," Severus said. "On that you have my word."
"What if Hermione walks into a bookstore and Ron is already—"
Hermione huffed a laugh.
"Okay, fine. What if she walks into a pub and he's already there?"
"I will include a component that warns him that Miss Granger is nearby. The charm will cause his fingers to get increasingly numb as he approaches her. He will not be able to claim that he had no knowledge she was close by. He won't get sent to Azkaban for simply shopping in Diagon Alley."
Harry was silent for a minute. "Let's think about it overnight, okay?"
"Okay." She hesitated. "Harry…you realize, if we do this it will appear that you lost a power struggle with Kingsley."
"I don't give a fuck. I just want him gone." But as to whether Harry was referring to Ron or Kingsley, Hermione had no idea.
Severus heaved his lean form off her and settled in behind her back, spooning his body up against hers. His breath was fast and heavy in her ear. "Fuck, Hermione. That was…well, fuck, that was…bloody hell, that was great…just…fucking great…"
She chuckled. She loved that she could reduce Severus Snape's standard eloquence to near-babbles and salient curses. At the moment, though, proverbial pots calling kettles black came to mind: she imagined she appeared as disheveled as he sounded. A sheen of sticky sweat covered her brow; her thighs were similarly sticky, although, deliciously, not from sweat. She could only imagine what her disobedient hair looked like. She didn't mind, however. She loved playing the part of some pleasantly ravaged female because of their…endeavors.
Truthfully, it had never occurred to Hermione that afternoons could be spent in such a delightful way. They had made love slowly and deliberately, blanketing each other soft kisses and touches so gentle they could be barely felt; they had grabbed for each other fiercely, with teeth and fingernails and fingers pressing hard into each other's flesh. And the delightful afternoon bled into the evening, which in turn, bled into night. Exhausted, they had fallen asleep far past midnight on the chocolate leather, having never made it to the bedroom.
Hermione awoke in the muted light of early morning. She smiled: his arms were wrapped around her. At some point Severus must have conjured a second blanket, because she was not only comfortable, but also quite warm, even though the fire had fled the hearth hours ago. She recalled the first night she lay at his side in the infirmary and he had said I want to make love to you in my bed—in our bed—for hours and hours on end. She giggled: they were hard pressed to make it off the couch, never mind travel all the way into the bedroom. Unlike those first nights in the infirmary, however, she was savoring his skin on hers, and his desire was evident between them. He stirred and she moved to face him.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
"Since the lady has already been sated—" Hermione said, interrupted by a kiss mid-sentence, "temporarily sated, that is—" she tried to continue but his lips stopped her words again, "what does the gentleman wish?"
"The gentleman? I see no gentleman here," he said with a smirk.
"I do."
"You are less observant than your reputation suggests, Gryffindor. Gentlemen would never entertain the thoughts I am currently enjoying."
She kissed him deeply, breathing him in. "Their loss."
"I'm afraid everything you do only increases my…hunger."
"Humor me and allow me to call you a gentleman, just for fun. So, what does the gentleman wish? Perhaps…" She ran her fingers down his chest.
"The gentleman wishes to bond the lady."
Her fingers froze half way down his abdomen. What…? Oh. She felt her face flush and swallowed hard. "You would like to bond me?"
"Your hearing seems to have survived last night's…exertions." He reached up to trace her jawline with his fingertip. "I realize you may find this a bit…premature. But yes, that is what I said." He paused. "I have…little to offer you. I will never attain the wealth of an ancient pureblood family. My name can garner as much loathing as praise. Our life together may—"
She placed her forefinger on his lips. "Severus…you do not need to convince me. I am already yours, bonded or no." She blinked. "Wait. Do you mean right now?" she asked, panic infusing her question.
"I can think of no better time."
She hadn't a stitch of clothing on; she was in desperate need of a hairbrush, a toothbrush, and a shower...and, perhaps, a calendar. How long had it been since she reached for him in the darkness to still his nightmares? How long had it been since his lips touched hers for the first time? Had they even been lovers for a week?
What did time matter, in the end? They had found each other both yesterday and an eternity ago. Her love for him had always been a fundamental part of her being—she just hadn't discovered it until he had turned his dark gaze on her. It was this paradox that staggered her: without him, she would have never unlocked the essence of who she was. The bonding was unnecessary. She was, and had always been, already his.
"The lady agrees," she said, finding her voice and smiling at him as a tear threatened.
"Do you know the words, Hermione?" He chuckled as she raised an eyebrow in a mimic of his. "Forget I asked."
She nodded. His infinitely dark eyes locked on hers. He took both her hands in his and he began to speak. "I bond with thee…" It was then that she jumped in, speaking faster to catch up until they were both reciting the ancient words in unison. "…to thee and only thee, in heart and spirit, mind and magic. This bond is my oath, this oath is my bond, for all my days."
Magic tickled around them, arching about and momentarily coalescing in a brilliant silver-white loop that circled their hands. It was done. Not the white dress extravaganza she had envisioned when she was a little girl. No champagne toasts, no cousins sporting candy-pink bridesmaid dresses, no chocolate fountains. Fate, thank Merlin, had been much better to her than that.
"I love you," she whispered.
"And I, you, Hermione. Always."
The morning passed as most mornings do. Breakfast was eaten and the elves arrived to tidy up. The gossip column was read. Severus tarried in the garden by the Valerian, which was proving to be fussy in its new home. Hermione made tea.
The morning was different, too, in profound ways. Her husband had gifted her a knowing smile from across the kitchen table as he passed the toast. Her husband had shared a shower with her. Her husband had brought her hand to his lips to feather kisses across her knuckles before she sat down to read.
Hermione was baffled. How could the world be so oblivious to this fundamental change? Everything was different. Merlin, she was bonded to Severus Snape. As soon as the official paperwork was filed in the Ministry, she could claim his name. Madam Hermione Snape.
She smiled again, uncontrollably. Her husband had just come in from the garden, sat down next to her on the couch, and presented her with a single wild rose. She expected the world to start dancing in celebration. Any minute now.
Minister Shacklebolt returned to the cottage late that morning. He swept in the front door and dismissed Severus's offer to sit with an arrogant wave of his hand. "What is it that you want, Headmaster Snape?" Kingsley began, the use of Severus's title setting the tone for his visit.
"My primary objective is to keep Miss Granger safe. Obviously, punishment for Mr. Weasley is also paramount."
"Continue."
"First of all, we expect Mr. Weasley to attend an inpatient detox programme as well as counseling at St Mungo's."
"Seems appropriate," Kingsley said, with a minute nod of his head.
"These programmes are primarily to assist Mr. Weasley in overcoming his penchant for mixing alcohol with anger. There is the matter of punishment, however. It needs to be addressed."
"You mean a consequence of sorts."
"Miss Granger is concerned for her safety, as she well should be. Mr. Weasley has not been successful in keeping an appropriate distance from her." Severus paused. "I have created a charm that will enforce it."
"How so?"
Severus slipped into a pedagogical tone. "Mr. Weasley would be the recipient of a permanent modified trace charm. Should Mr. Weasley breach a pre-agreed distance from Miss Granger, an alert will sound in the Auror Office. At that time, Mr. Weasley will no longer be able to Apparate or leave the area. The trace will allow Aurors to Apparate directly to Mr. Weasley's location and…assess the situation."
"Conditions?"
Severus cocked an eyebrow. "First, Mr. Weasley remains in custody or St Mungo's while the charm is tested and reviewed. Second, I will be the only one permitted to remove the charm, save Miss Granger. Third," he said as he locked eyes with the Minister, "Should Mr. Weasley trigger the charm, he will be automatically and immediately remanded to Azkaban without a trial."
"For how long?"
"We are somewhat open to negotiations on that point."
Kingsley frowned, considering. "We would need the Aurors office to test and approve the charm, of course." He paused momentarily. "And Ronald Weasley must agree to it."
"If he does not, we will move for an extensive, prolonged, and quite…public trial. We will demand Mr. Weasley be brought up on attempted murder charges, based on the particulars of the event and also based on the fact that it was his second attack on Miss Granger."
Even Hermione could see that Kingsley did not know that it had not been Ron's first violence against her. "Based on the particulars of the case?" he pressed.
"Yes. The specifics of this incident suggest Mr. Weasley sought out Miss Granger with a plan, the sole purpose of which was to cause extensive harm to her person."
Silence.
"You won't have the Prophet." Kingsley strutted around the small sitting room looking pompous and self-satisfied.
Hermione tried to match his expression from her chair. "You won't have the Quibbler." She smiled. "Or Harry Potter."
Kingsley pursed his lips and gazed out the window. After a few silent minutes, he said, "Consider it done. If Ronald Weasley agrees to it, that is."