AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
Hermione should feel like shit.
She should feel guilty that she had rebound sex mere hours after her breakup with Ron. Her heart should feel as if it had been devoured by Demontors over the fact she had slept with someone other than the man she'd claimed to love that morning. She should be crying into Severus' sheets, confessing her love for Ron and her remorse that she got so drunk. Her body should be so racked with guilt she could not move.
Yet that was her emotional state at all. Tonight had done nothing to reduce her euphoria. For the first time in weeks, she was at peace, excited about the new direction her life was about to take. What an exciting direction that would be! All she needed to do was find her purpose and begin life without Ron.
She turned to Severus. For the two hours, she'd felt too alive to shut her eyes and relax. A midnight jog didn't sound terrible at the moment. Anything to get her energy out would be welcome.
Was it bad form to just leave? Should she wake Severus to say goodbye, leave a farewell note, or just go? Nobody had ever told her what to do in these morning after situations. Even her books had been less than helpful since she thought she'd only be with one man her entire life. Well, she thought she'd only be with one man after the war ended. That was more accurate. There had to be some proper etiquette she was missing, or did it matter? Of course it mattered! Severus was such a stickler for manners. She should respect him by behaving accordingly. Did he care more about sleeping, or being told goodbye?
The dilemma was real.
"Granger?"
She hummed.
"I can't sleep with you shaking your foot against mine," he muttered.
"Sorry, sorry," she began. "I didn't mean to wake you, or maybe I did. I don't know."
He moaned before prying open an eye.
She leaned down. "Are you awake?"
"Against my will."
"Okay, so uh, what do I do now?" She asked.
"You let me sleep," he shut his eye.
"Does that mean you won't be angry if I go?"
"No, I would rather sleep than listen to you yammer on and feel your foot rock the bed."
"Leaving is a good idea." She stood up. "Though I don't know where I'd go."
"You don't want to face Weasley?"
"That, and I'm not tired."
"You aren't?" Both his eyes were open.
"No, I could go for one more round!" Just looking at him filled her with desire, so much yearning it constricted her chest and sent a shudder of anticipation throughout her body.
He opened both eyes. "Merlin woman, you are insatiable."
"I never thought you'd call me that," she teased.
"I never thought I'd be in a position to call you that."
"So," she leaned closer to him. "Do you want one more round?"
"I do not know how advisable that would be."
"Why not?"
"I have work tomorrow. I assume you do too."
"Yes, but I'm not tired. I need something to occupy me until I get tired."
"And you don't want to return to Weasley."
"I'd prefer not to talk to him, no," she answered. "I don't want to be reminded that we broke up. I don't need another fight. All we do is fight. I hate it. I hate fighting. I'd rather stay with you. We don't fight. I like that."
She felt the weight of his stare. His fatigue was visible, but there was a spark of interest. If Hermione had to guess, it had been quite some time since he's had a woman in his bed, much less one that could go all night like she could. It must have been both a burden and an honor to have someone so sexy in his room.
"I need someone to teach me how to behave," she purred. "Surely you won't mind doing that for me."
"One more round," he sat up. "Then, you either need to sleep or leave."
Her lips curled up. "Deal."
Their lips crashed into each other, sleep now the furthest thing from their minds.
Staying up with Hermione until three in the morning had not been Severus' most intelligent move. While he couldn't deny the night was the most enjoyable one he'd had in years, his body was not getting any younger. Ms. Granger had a stamina he struggled to match. Not that it stopped him from trying, and reaping the benefits when he succeeded.
He suppressed a yawn as he counted out the change for his latest customer. After he gave the coins to her, she gave him a muttered thanks, and left the store. Once alone, Severus allowed his fatigue to creep through. The evening couldn't come soon enough for his achingly exhausted body. Tonight he'd skip his potions journal in favor of collapsing on his bed and allowing sleep to overtake him.
On days like today, he wished he had an assistant, or at least a cashier who could mind the store while he took a nap. Merlin knows he had enough sleepless nights during the war. Time off for a two hour nap was the least life could give him. Still, an assistant would demand attention, and a cashier would demand three hour lunch breaks. Worse, they may believe he wanted to socialize with him. They may believe he was spending too much time alone, so they'd drag him to pubs and clubs. They may even give him unwanted marital advice! Despite the hardships of freedom, his independence was worth the price of a missed nap.
The bell above the door rang.
"Severus?"
"Minerva," he stretched and hoped he appeared presentable. A regular customer would make no comment if his hair was ruffled and hastily brushed. Minerva would.
"Hello," she approached the counter with a smile much too pleasant for this early in the morning. "I'm here to pick up those pepper up potions and the cura gripei."
"I have them in the back," he rushed into a backroom.
"Thank you."
He began shifting through the boxes, cursing himself for not making the room brighter. A few candles wouldn't hurt.
"I also wanted to see how you were doing regarding the latest terrible news," she called.
"What news?" He asked. "Anymore all the news is terrible. It is becoming increasingly difficult to cope with any of it."
"Yes, but the marriage law would be especially odious to you."
He snorted before picking up the two boxes labelled Hogwarts.
"I was wondering how you were holding up with the announcement of the marriage law."
"I am well considered that some dunderhead is going to be invading my life, wasting all my money, annoying me with her small talk, and causing unmitigated chaos I have little patience for," he moaned as he carried the boxes to the front.
"Don't consider your future wife a dunderhead," Minerva stepped back as he set the boxes on the table. "Not when you don't know her yet."
"Most people I've met are dunderheads. It is unlikely she will be any different."
"But she could be. Why, she could be a potential research partner."
"How can she be a research partner if she's a dunderhead who wants little to me?"
"She may not be that way."
"Now we're just going around in circles."
"Have a little optimism," Minerva continued. "The spells cast to pair people together take several factors into account. They are supposed to be fairly accurate."
"It's the 'supposed to' which is doubtful."
"There may not be a reason to be pessimistic. You may be matched with someone intelligent, someone who could prove invaluable to your goals."
"I have yet to meet someone who could keep up with my intellect," he scooted the boxes closer to her. "It's doubtful any woman would be intelligent enough to help my accomplish my goals."
"There are intelligent women out there."
"Yes, all of whom are wise enough to want someone much more handsome than I am."
"You cannot judge a book by it's snarky, black cover," she argued.
"Book covers do not always lie."
"No, but they can obscure hidden depths, ones you need a few chapters to reach."
"People don't have the patience to read through long works, not anymore anyway."
"Most people don't, but there's a certain type of person who likes to go deeper, one who appreciates a little mystery, one who has the patience to see someone through."
"If you find her, let me know." His uncertainty was palpable.
"I actually know a few witches who are interested in meeting a potential husband who has a sharp intellect and is capable of a witty comeback," her eyes lit up. "I could introduce you to them."
"I would agree to do so, but I would like you to maintain as many friendships as possible. They are so hard to come by anymore. It would be horrendous to destroy my friendship with you because your friends found me less than friendly."
"Or I could nurture my friendship with her by showing her the man of her dreams."
"Poor woman must have nothing but nightmares if she dreams of someone like me."
"Oh Severus," Minerva sighed. "Your crippling insecurity would be adorable if you weren't so dedicated to sabotaging yourself."
"I do not sabotage myself, though I'm much more willing to see reality for what it is," he answered. "I admit my faults, and acknowledge why no intelligent woman would ever want to be wed to me."
Minerva shook her head.
"Anyway, I will find a way to delay the inevitable for as long as I can. Merlin know I could call in a few favors from Lucius. Surely he can think of something," he continued.
"Just be sure not to get into any trouble in the meantime."
"Do I ever get into trouble?" He smirked.
"You're walking trouble," She reached for the boxes. "Though that can be endearing under the right circumstances."
"Or so you say."
"Admittedly, you should be able to stay out of this kind of trouble," Minerva grabbed the boxes. "So long as you remain celibate between now and when Lucius can give you aid, you should be fine."
"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh yes," Minerva took the boxes. "That's a clause in the marriage law. In thirty days you will be paired with a spouse, unless you have sexual relations with someone beforehand. Then, you will be paired with that person."
Now Severus was fully awake. His heart was pounding against his chest. "Is there any way to test for whether or not one has had sexual relations with another person?"
"From what I understand it's mostly self-reporting, though there may be other methods."
His muscles tensed, though a speck of hope remained. If it was self-reporting he would be fine. There was a good chance Granger would keep her mouth quiet about what had occurred. The last thing she needed was a scandal, especially one which upset Potter and the Weasleys. By her own admission, she and Weasley fought all the time. They were probably reunited now. By the evening he'd be a long lost memory, last night being something everyone could pretend had not occurred.
"Why do you look so surprised?" Minerva stared at him. "The intercourse clause was in the paper. Didn't you read that?"
"I didn't read all of the article," he admitted. "I became too irate to think clearly, so I threw down the paper and proceeded to get drunk."
"Oh," she replied. "Well, you haven't done anything stupid in the meantime, have you? Getting drunk is one thing. You didn't do anything while drunk, right?"
A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.
"You didn't do anything stupid, right?"
Stupid was a mild way of putting what he'd done. Merlin, had Granger known about the clause? Had she intended to trap him? If so, why? Was it for her memory project? If so, why not ask for his help like a normal person? Why bring amazing sex into it?
Then again, when had any Gryffindor ever done things in a normal fashion?
"Severus, what have you done?" Minerva furrowed her eyebrows and tapped her foot.
"I didn't read the fine print," he squeaked.
"And now even Lucius cannot help you escape, can he?"
Severus gulped.
"Who is it?" She asked.
He blinked.
"Who is she?"
The name died on Severus' tongue.
"Who is she?"
Before Severus could decide on a lie, and owl burst in. Its pure white coloring was a dead giveaway as to its origins, as was the expensive parchment in its claws. The ribbon tying the letter was crimson, the perfect color for an execution order.
"What have you done?" Minerva put the boxes down.
Severus shook as he read the parchment. Any delusions he had about not being caught were shattered within the first line. Any hope he had that Hermione had slept with Weasley afterwards evaporated by the second paragraph. Any realistic expectation for eternal solitude had been squashed by the signature.
"Who is she?" Minerva raised her voice.
"Excuse me?" He squeaked out.
"Don't think I don't know what that parchment is. Sinistra got one this morning after her boyfriend proposed. Who is your intended bride?"
"Ms. Granger," he muttered.
"Who?" Minerva leaned closer.
"Ms. Granger," he replied in a louder voice. "Ms. Granger is about to become Mrs. Snape, and there's nothing I can do to prevent it from occurring."