Author's Note: I am approaching this story not picturing the actors from the movies. I am unable to post links on this site, but if you view this story on AO3, you'll be able to click on the links I have provided for depictions of the characters.

June 20, 1999

Hermione sat freshly showered and awkwardly perched on the bed in her husband's quarters at Hogwarts. Her eyes soaking in the bleak landscape of his bedroom. It was fairly tidy and the furniture was minimal. It included a four-poster bed with unsurprisingly black bed linens, one end table, a dresser, and a chair that seemed primarily used to catch her husband's clothing. Husband. What an odd word to describe Severus Snape! He did not seem the sort to marry. Yet, here they both were married due to the Marriage Act. This wasn't how she'd planned it. She hadn't expected to get married at 19 especially not to a man 18 years her senior. It felt weird but oddly, she wasn't fearful. Yes, Severus Snape had been a foreboding professor, but after taking part in the Second Wizarding War an ill-tempered Potions professor was not on her list of things that scared her.

She was determined to make the best of this marriage as there was no way out. There was no divorce and she would be carrying not one, but five of Snape's children. She could wail and cry about the unfairness of having to marry at such a young age. About having to marry a man she did not love. But that was not her style. Hermione was pragmatic. Practical. A woman who always found a solution.

And that was why she sat determinedly in her night shirt that fell just past her thighs as she waited for her newly minted husband to finish with his turn in the shower.

Valentine, the Snape's Love Bug, was an adorable, pink insect with heart-shaped eyes and red stripes that was currently buzzing slowly around the room. She was here to record their responses to the three questions the Ministry had provided for them to answer tonight before they consummated their marriage.

Hermione thought it was actually pretty smart of the Ministry to include talking and spending time with one another as requirements of the Marriage Act. If there was any chance of true intimacy, it was getting to know one another. Although, she doubted it would be easy to converse with Severus Snape. He wasn't exactly what one would call chatty, but she knew he would comply with the law's requirements. He might only provide one-word answers but he would respond to the questions.

While she had read multiple books on the subject, Hermione couldn't help but feel some trepidation about the physical act of consummation. She had kissed a sum total of two boys and had narrowly escaped the lecherous lips of Cormac McLaggen so while her book knowledge was more than adequate, her application of it was practically nonexistent. She had always been more focused on academia and not so much on her social life. It wasn't that she didn't want to fall in love but she felt she would have years ahead of her to do that and only a limited of time of learning at Hogwarts.

But soon, she would have Severus hovering above her on the bed and it would be awkward, but she was determined that she would not live the rest of her life not enjoying sexual intimacy. The many books she had read had illuminated her on the many ways a man could ensure that his wife found pleasure. She meant to advocate for herself tonight. She may have a loveless marriage but she would be darned if it would be pleasureless.

A door opened and a clean, ungreasy-haired Severus stepped out in a black t-shirt and sweatpants. On his left arm, she spied the fading remains of the Dark Mark - the snake winding around the skull elicited a shiver from her. Looking up into his eyes, she realized his choice of the short-sleeved shirt had been intentional. He wanted her to remember his sordid past, that he had once been a Death Eater. Not really the mood she wanted for this evening so she intentionally remembered the acts of bravery and loyalty he'd shown as part of the Order of the Phoenix instead.

She pointed to the envelope on the bed. "I guess we better answer the Ministry's questions so we can have some privacy."

Severus walked forward but paused at the bed post furthest from her to lean against it. "Open it. Let's get this over with."

Severus watched as the Granger chit who had somehow become his wife opened the envelope. The past few hours had been surreal. He had married a former student. It disoriented and infuriated him, making him feel as if he was doing something wrong but the Ministry had mandated it. It was they who should feel guilty for ruining countless innocents' lives, but having born witness to the many flubs of the Ministry over the years, Snape knew their consciences would never feel that thorny prick. As she read the contents, a rosy blush fell across her cheeks.

Irritated by his admiration of said blush, by Merlin's beard she had been his student, he growled, "Out with it. What are the questions?"

"Um…" That darn blush again. "Uh…what is your favorite body part of your spouse?" She managed to rapidly squeak out.

Severus's eyes dipped below her shoulders. She caught the direction of his eyes and blushed again. That nuisance, the Love Bug, closed in on them, ready to record the subsequent humiliating conversation.

"Your hair," he replied, unwilling to respond honestly. If he hadn't still been so enraged at being forced against his will to marry, he might've realized the witch had made monumentous efforts with her hair today. It was far less frizzy than usual.

"Same," she spat back, the flush of embarrassment replaced with the flush of annoyance or possibly anger.

"Next question," he replied, slightly miffed at her response no matter how deserved it was.

"What was your previous love life before we married? I'll go first. I have had two boyfriends. Viktor Krum and Ron Weasley. There was some making out, but nothing further than that. You do not need to worry about any diseases from me."

Severus swallowed, his anger dissipating into unease. He had assumed she and the Weasley boy had…. The seventh year was when many witches and wizards started having sex. But her seventh year wasn't exactly traditional and then this insane marriage law. He almost felt sorry for the witch.

"I have had two sexual partners. One of short duration." That was a nice way of putting his drunken father had paid for a prostitute to divest him of his virginity. "And the second, my partner of ten years up until this spring."

The witch's mouth formed an O. She probably figured he was a virgin like herself. He was most definitely not. While not in love, he and Zenobia had a mutual understanding that helped satisfy any itch that should arise.

"Why did you not marry her and avoid all this?"

"That is none of your concern."

He'd asked, but Zenobia had said no, muttering some bull about giving him a chance to find love. No, what he'd really wanted was consistency and the familiar. But her refusal had forced him into the marriage pool. "Third question."

"What makes you feel g-good?" She stammered.

A multitude of ideas swam through his mind. None of which he planned to share with his new wife. No, tonight was about completing a task, ticking a box, and then rolling over to his side of the bed. The quicker he could accomplish it, the less traumatic it would be for all parties involved.

"To get this night over with and go to sleep."

"Um…" her face turned an even redder shade than before, but then she straightened her shoulders and pushed her hair back behind her ears. "What would make me feel good is to have us to attempt to enjoy sexual intercourse. In fact, I must insist upon it. You will be my husband for many years. Decades likely. We might not love each other but I will take what little pleasure can be had from this marriage. I want us to try to make each other feel good. I have read some books that are very detailed about the matter and I am happy to lend you those."

"I don't need any books," he grumbled. "Fine, get in the bed, witch."

The young witch looked surprised at how easily he had acquiesced to her request. She opened her mouth to likely to continue to argue like the know-it-all she was, but he shot her a fierce glare.

The Love Bug having gotten the answers it needed zoomed off as the witch scurried under the covers. He swallowed as her night shirt flew across the room. He began reciting the ingredients of wolfsbane in his mind.

"Nox," he murmured as the lights went off.

"Lumos," his wife responded and the lights reappeared. "I want to see."

"No, and if you turn on the lights again, I'm not responsible for our trip to Azkaban."

"But it would be you going as you'd be the one refusing to fulfill the requirements.."

Merlin, she is annoying, he thought to himself as he murmured Nox again.

"I want to be kissed."

"Fine," he replied as he joined her under the covers, climbed atop her, and pressed his lips against hers. Maybe kissing would silence the witch.

Over the course of the next half hour, his witch wasn't silent but she wasn't nearly as talkative as before.