The European Death Knot

A/N - So I'm back. At last. It's been a rollercoaster in real life in the time I'm away. I could go over all the things that have happened - bought a house (Yay!), found out that I'm losing my job (boo!), forced to work for the boss that is firing me until I either find a new job or my contract expires in July (BOOOOO!), bouts of some serious depression (ugh) - but really, it all just consolidates into a big jumble of noise that kept me from doing anything but just surviving. And as far as you, my dear readers, are concerned, it just means that you've gone a horrid amount of time without an update, probably thinking that I had abandoned the story and all my work here. I really do hate to keep doing this to you, but life hasn't been very kind to me lately.

So. I can't promise how often my coming updates will be. But I CAN promise you a couple of things -

1. I've vowed that now that I have nothing to lose with my job, I will no longer allow it to eat my life. Hopefully this will give me more time to write.

2. I'm already about 1/4 of the way done with chapter 23, and I'm trying to keep momentum going, so I don't get stuck.

3. Your reviews have meant EVERYTHING to me. Even if you think I'm not reading them, keep sending them. They are the only thing(s) that have given me any hope that anyone would even care if the story was updated. They are shining lights to me, so please, keep writing. I will try the best that I can to keep living up to them.

4. I'm NEARLY done with the first full chapter of Baby Mine, the sequel to Bundle of Joy, in case you read my other work.

I'm endlessly grateful for those of you who continue to stick with me, and for those of you who are new to the game, I hope that the story is worth the gaps between updates. As a side note, given that I wanted to get this out to you as soon as possible, this chapter is un-beta-ed, so please forgive any mistakes you may encounter.

I hope you enjoy this humble offering.

~~ ** Lady Tuesday ** ~~

Chapter Twenty-Two – The European Death Knot (One-Sided Overhand Bend)

The European Death Knot (One-Sided Overhand Bend) – "The one-sided overhand bend is a knot used to join two ropes together. The overhand bend is formed by holding two rope ends next to each other and tying an overhand knot in them as if they were a single line. ...Easily formed in most line, the overhand bend can be difficult or impossible to untie once tightened. ... this bend is not practical to use as a binding knot when tied by hand. ... It is prone to failure by capsizing under high loads. Due to this behavior, American climbers often refer to it as the European Death Knot or EDK. But these initial failures can reform the knot tighter, if the ends are long enough to avoid passing into the knot."

~ Wikipedia's List of Knots

"Actually," Ginny said, leaning back and dangling one long leg across the arm of her wingback, "it's fairly ingenious, if I do say so myself."

Though Ginny's self-satisfied smirk caused Hermione's lips to quirk up in amusement, she couldn't help but be just the slightest bit troubled by the decision.

"Are you sure about this?"

Hermione looked from Ginny and her smug smile to Harry, who gave her a bemused shrug, to Luna. As ever, Luna bore an expression of polite interest, as if she'd just been asked to tea by a new acquaintance and nothing more stressful or unusual than that. A furrow in her brow, Hermione turned back to Harry.

"Truly, Harry, is this all right with you? No offense meant, of course, to you, Luna," she added hastily. The other girl just nodded. "I just want to make sure it's the best thing for everyone involved. Come to that, how did you petition for Harry at all? You're not even of age!"

"Daddy is," Luna said simply. Her face melted into a satisfied smile, as if her statement had explained everything.

Ginny nodded as well, but Hermione could only scowl a little further.

"Well, what does that matter?"

"For a smart girl, you forget the details easily, don't you?"

Harry smirked despite the frosty glare that Hermione had turned on him. Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Harry chuckled lightly and motioned for Luna to explain.

Smiling, Luna directed her gaze back to Hermione. "Ginny approached me on Saturday morning – obviously, this was after you left with Professor Snape..." Hermione tensed, but Luna gave no sign that she noticed, "...and she explained that she needed my help. She told me that she and Harry had been scanning the outline of the law for loopholes, trying to see if Harry could get out of the law entirely. A bit pointless, as I told them, because everyone knows that the Minister has operatives inside the Office of..."

"I noticed, in the letter about the law," Ginny said, gently cutting into another of Luna's description of wild Ministry conspiracies, "that even if a witch or wizard wasn't of age..."

"...'the patriarch of a pureblood family may submit a petition on behalf of his child, with or without the child's consent,' " Luna recited.

"So Harry and I wracked our brains as to who we knew that was a pureblood witch and would be a suitable match for Harry," Ginny finished.

"And is enough of a nutter not to mind being engaged to a marked man who'd potentially make her and everyone she loves a target," Harry said with a grimace.

Hermione frowned in Harry's direction, but Luna continued before she could respond.

"Daddy was thrilled, of course, to petition for Harry. He's always been very nice to me, and we were happy to help. The real genius of the plan, naturally, is that even though Daddy petitioned for Harry, I can't get married until I'm of age. If the law gets repealed before then, we mightn't even have to get married at all."

"And you're not worried about your father's safety?" Hermione asked.

"Of course I am," Luna said. "That's why he's gone into hiding. Even I don't know exactly where he's gone."

"So where will you go once school is over?"

"Order Headquarters, most likely," Harry answered for her. "Seeing as she's my fiancée, it seems the safest place, not to mention that it's my house now."

Hermione nodded, but she still found herself troubled. "So you don't mind, then? Being engaged to someone you're not in love with?"

Luna gave Harry a kind but assessing look before shrugging her shoulders. "Harry is a lovely person – a good friend – so I suppose we will get along fairly well as a couple, should we have to get married in the end. And if he found someone he loved, I wouldn't mind if he had a relationship with that person; he just couldn't get marry her. Or him. Whichever suits his fancy. I suppose I should have asked if you're gay, Harry? It would make the reproduction clause of the law stickier if you were, but I'm sure we could find a way around it."

At this last pronouncement, Harry's jaw dropped in shock. It was a moment before he remembered himself and closed his mouth with a snap, another moment or two before he formulated an answer.

"No," he said weakly, and then more confidently, "no, I'm definitely not gay. Very, erm, very straight."

"Excellent," Luna said with a satisfied smile.

Luna gave him another measured gaze, this time thoroughly enough to cause him to blush to his hairline. Hermione had to place a hand over her mouth to keep from snickering.

"Yes, I think we'll do just fine," she said serenely.

"Well," Ginny said, a tad startled but clearly trying to marshal her thoughts. "There you have it."

*****

Hermione watched nervously as Ginny's eyes scanned the roll of parchment in front of her. Every now and then, Ginny would stare at a fixed spot on the parchment, sigh, and then begin reading again. Anxiety driving her to distraction, Hermione had long ago given up on trying to write her achievement goals and course of study for her independent Transfiguration lessons with Professor McGonagall, and instead had taken to watching Ginny as she read to gauge the success of the material by Ginny's facial expressions.

About fifteen minutes into the process, Ginny pinched her eyes shut and growled, "If you don't stop bloody staring at me, I'm going to heave this damn thing into the fireplace right now!"

Hermione squeaked in distress and reapplied herself to her course planning. At nearly half-past eight, Ginny raised her eyes and sighed.

"Well," she said, "I've finished."

Hermione's quill skittered across the parchment, leaving a long streak of ink through her schedule for the Christmas holidays. "What do you think?" she asked tensely.

One side of Ginny's lips quirked up in a little half-smile. "It's good, that," she said. "It really is. Bits of it were ... interesting, but you've done a nice job."

"What do you mean, 'interesting'? It sounds like you meant 'bits of it were complete crap.' What needs fixing?"

Ginny scrubbed her hands across her eyes. "I knew that you were going to be like this," she said, and sighed again. "I meant that bits of it were interesting, not crap. And it doesn't need fixing, per se, I just wondered why you'd done certain things."

"It's not supposed to be interesting; it's supposed to be a wedding!" When Ginny laughed, Hermione sighed and lowered her voice. "You know what I mean. What were you wondering about?"

"Well, to start with, you've completed evicted the concept of love from the ceremony."

"It isn't exactly a love match, is it?" Hermione said ruefully. "Besides, I can't imagine Professor Snape spouting platitudes, can you? Furthermore, I'm not sure I'd want him to do. It would be too ... weird. This weekend was quite enough play-acting at affection for me, thanks very much. Anyhow, I do say the word love a few times, just not a lot. What else were you curious about?"

"The end bit."

Hermione nodded and gulped. She knew that this part of the ceremony would be a unique and potentially perilous choice, but she firmly believed it to be a good one. "The wand binding, you mean?"

"Those old rituals are dangerous things to muck about in, love," Ginny said, her heart-shaped face pinched with worry. "Don't you know what can happen with a wand binding?"

"Of course I do," Hermione said indignantly. "I did my research! It's a magical tie between spouses that strengthens the emotional bond and links their magical capabilities..."

"...and can cause some pairs to share powers," Ginny said. "Leaving aside the rather large problem that I doubt Snape will be happy that you'd be forcibly binding the two of you together for life, is that something you really want to delve into, Hermione? I know Snape's technically in the Order, but..."

"There's no 'technically' about it, Ginny; he's in the Order," Hermione replied huffily.

"He's also a Death Eater. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater," Ginny said. To stem the start of an argument from her friend, Ginny raised a hand, then continued, "That doesn't mean I believe him to be evil incarnate or anything, Hermione, but the fact is that the man is a Death Eater. Do you really want to share that?"

"Former Death Eater."

"Is that right? So he's not going to any of their little get-togethers anymore, then?"

Hermione started to retort, but snapped her mouth shut. The memory of a memory floated to the top of her vision, a hazy image of her sullen fiancé with a white mask dangling from his fingers as he pointed his wand at the crumpled form of her lost friend ...

"You don't exactly hand in your resignation to You-Know-Who, Hermione. Didn't Sirius say that about his brother? And if Snape is still going to their little soirees, and hanging out with Malfoy, and..." Ginny's voice broke, "...and helping to torture innocent people, he's still a Death Eater. He just happens to also be in the Order. I think that opening yourself up to whatever he has inside him that makes him capable of doing what he does is foolish."

Hermione grimaced, but took a long, steadying breath. "I trust him. Binding my magical powers to his will show that to the world."

"Or it will show them that you're blind enough to believe the best in everyone, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary."

Ginny's comment landed like a slap to Hermione's face, and for a moment, she sat stunned. Not a hair's breadth of a second later, it was all she could do not to pull out her wand and hex her friend. Instead, fighting down the fury that had risen in her throat with astonishing speed, Hermione shoved back her chair and stood. For a moment, she considered walking away, but the urge to retort was too great. Her palms slapped down on the table with a noise like a whip crack, causing Ginny to flinch.

"Now you listen to me, Ginevra Weasley," Hermione spat out in a controlled hiss. "What is 'in him that makes him do what he does' is courage and dedication and a rather phenomenal amount of bravery, and whether you like it or not, what he does saves our bloody necks. A lot. He may not be the kindest or sweetest of men, but Severus Snape is still my fiancé, and when you insult him, you insult me. Keep that in mind for the future because you only get one free shot at him."

Hermione took a few swift steps away from the table before remembering the script for the wedding ceremony still lay in front of Ginny. Within two strides, Hermione leaned back over the table and snatched the scroll out from under her friend's folded hands. Hermione didn't look back before heaving herself through the portrait hole and stomping off towards the Owlery, more determined than ever to send the ceremony transcript off to the Ministry with the wand binding as the capstone to her wedding.

*****

Just over an hour later, Hermione reemerged into the Common Room after a long, brisk walk back from the Owlery and an extended session in the Room of Requirement, venting her anger against some plush dummies that strikingly resembled both Ginny and Snape. Following her half hour of vengeful spell casting, she'd taken a good long time to contemplate what Ginny had said and the implications of what forever with Severus Snape would mean. She was more than a little ashamed that she kept coming back to one particular subject, but the more she thought about it, the more she knew what she had to do.

Hermione took a deep breath; she was calm and resolved now. She'd come to a strange but logical decision. Now, she just had to convince the 'interested parties' that it was a good idea. Pressing her cold fingers to warm cheeks, Hermione noticed the glint of lamp light off bright red hair at the table in front of the north windows.

Ah. Ginny. First victim.

A slight burble of nervousness in her stomach, Hermione made her way over to where Ginny worked away on some bit of homework as she smiled absently at the cool night breeze drifting in from the open window. Watching as her friend brushed a long ginger lock away from her eyes and behind her ears, Hermione thanked providence for the nearly empty room as she sat herself across from her friend. Ginny looked up and smiled tentatively at Hermione before finishing off a sentence.

"So ... sent the paperwork off to the Ministry, then?" Ginny asked as she blew gently on the ink drying on her Arithmancy chart.

"Yes," Hermione said with forced nonchalance, but didn't elaborate or give in to the temptation to fill the silence with babble, as was her usual habit when anxious.

Letting the silence stretch out, Hermione figured that it was best if Ginny was a tad off kilter for what she was about to propose; if she surprised her friend with the question, Ginny may be less likely to be upset (at least, right away). Hermione wasn't disappointed when the lengthening quiet made Ginny fidget with her quill, looking to and from her friend with increasingly edgy facial expressions.

Another deep breath and Hermione was ready to ask the crucial question. "Ginny, I need to ask you a favor."

"Sure," Ginny said, relief heavy in her voice as she bent over to pull another textbook from her bag. "Anything; you know that."

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. "I'd like your permission to have sex with Harry."

A dull whack accompanied Ginny's textbook dropping to the floor. The girl stared up at her, nonplussed, halfway bent over beside the table.

"I'm sorry, I think I just hallucinated for a second," Ginny said after a long pause. "I could have sworn you just asked my permission to shag Harry. Which is ... what did you really say?"

A tiny sigh escaped Hermione. "That's what I really said. I want your permission to sleep with Harry." When the girl just stared at her, blinking rapidly, she added an awkward, "please."

"Hermione, I ...." Ginny floundered wordlessly for a moment. "Are you mad?"

Before Hermione could respond, the redhead continued.

"I mean, even if you were going to do such a ridiculous thing, why the hell would you be asking my permission and not, oh, say, Harry's? I mean, it's just preposterous!"

Hermione waited for her friend to stop gaping at her before she motioned the redhead to lower her voice, then leaned in to explain.

"You see, after we talked about the Wand Binding, I got thinking. This Marriage Law might be forever, if the law makers in place now have their way; and if we do a Binding, my marriage is definitely forever. And, well, that got me thinking about what sacrifices people make when they join themselves in marriage, and I couldn't help thinking about what my mother refers to as 'the ultimate sacrifice' for a bride."

Ginny snickered a bit as Hermione allowed her lips to quirk up a bit.

"What I mean is, I got a good long look this weekend at what passes for intimacy with Severus Snape. I'm not sure there is a 'real' with him; everything is appearances and interpretations, and it's all so mixed up and confusing and ... well, after what I saw of him this weekend, I don't want that kind of experience for my first .... You see, I've never... and I don't know as if he would really appreciate .... "

Her voice trailed off as she sniffed back tears. Ginny reached over and held Hermione's hand in hers as the older girl marshaled her thoughts.

"So, you see, I wanted to be able to have choice for my first time, to whom I choose to give that gift. Someone who'll be kind and gentle and understand and appreciate what he is being given. I know that Harry would."

"I don't doubt it," Ginny said in a soft but tight voice. "So why are you asking my permission?"

Hermione swiped a sleeve across her leaking eyes and sniffly nose. "Because the last time anything like this happened, I almost lost you, and that was only snogging. I wanted you to understand why I was going to ask Harry for this; I wanted you to understand, so that you would try to be okay with it, and so I wouldn't risk losing you again."

The younger girl sighed and sat back in her chair, gazing out the window as she did so. "I appreciate the thought, Hermione, and I understand why you want this, but the permission isn't mine to give. Harry isn't mine to give; he never was, really, even though I wished...but he isn't. I can't give you permission for something that I don't have, Hermione."

"But if he says yes, I don't want you to be hurt."

Ginny sighed, then looked at her friend, giving Hermione a small smile. "It will hurt for a bit, but it hurts less and less every day."

Hermione chewed her lip in silence, wavering on whether to go ahead with her plan. She did believe that taking this step would be best with Harry, but not if it risked her friendship with Ginny. She couldn't go through that again.

"Ginny, I..."

"Go ask him, Hermione," Ginny said, before she lost her nerve.

Hermione noted that Ginny didn't wait to see the other girl's response, simply reapplied herself to her homework and surreptitiously dabbed at her eyes.

*****

They sat across from each other, Hermione on the chair near the window and Harry on the bed, looking anywhere but in the other person's direction. Given the cramped space of Harry's section of the dormitory, their knees nearly touched, Harry's legs so close she could feel the heat of his body warming the fabric of her tights, but they both seemed to be going out of their way not to bridge the scant distance between. She hadn't counted on it being this bloody awkward; a ridiculous mistake, in retrospect, but at the time, Hermione had been so certain that once he'd given his consent, everything would flow naturally. After all, they'd had a few snogs, hadn't they, and Harry had even admitted to loving her just a few months ago. Now, however, the pressure of what they'd agreed to seemed to be smothering them. Hermione opened her mouth to speak a few times but couldn't force out any words. Thankfully, Harry broke the silence.

"Are you sure about this, Hermione?"

She nodded, wringing her hands in her lap. "Yes, yes. I know that I want this experience to be special, with someone I care about."

After a long moment, he asked, "You sure that you don't just want someone that isn't him?"

He didn't use Snape's name, she noted, but it hung there in the air between them nevertheless, as if her fiancé was a silent observer of the act they had agreed to participate in. She shuddered at the thought and wrenched her mind back to Harry's question.

"Yes, of course," she said, but something stuck at the back of her throat when she said it.

A quick succession of memories flashed across her mind – the feel of Snape's arms around her on the dance floor; the warmth of his hands on her back as he pulled her into his embrace in the courtyard; the smooth slip of his lips on hers; the heat of his breath on her face as they stood in front of her bedroom door; the sear of his gaze as it slid up and down her form, stopping, lingering at her breasts – and Hermione felt wobbly with a sudden flare and retreat of giddiness and fear.

No, she told herself firmly, she did not want her first time to be like that. Something in the back of her mind thought that perhaps the lady did protest too much.

No, she told herself again.

And the truth was, when she looked at Harry, she felt a warm certainty that her virginity would be well lost with him. Harry would give her the sort of first time that every girl should have. She looked up into his eyes, clear and warm and familiar, and didn't have to force a smile.

"I want you, Harry," she said, but it came out a tad more stiffly than she would have liked.

Harry leaned in as if to kiss her, but stopped halfway there when Hermione took in breath sharply and clenched her hands in her skirt. After a moment, Harry rocketed up from the bed and walked around to the other side where his school books were stacked on his nightstand.

"Should we go over tomorrow's Defense Against the Dark Arts work, do you think?" he said, gawkily gesturing to the assignment they'd done on Shield Charms.

When Hermione's shoulders slumped, Harry came back – essay clutched in an unsteady fist – and patted her hand gently.

"We'll get there, Hermione," he said quietly. "When it's right."

She nodded morosely, hoping that 'when it's right' would come sometime in the fortnight before she irrevocably bonded herself to her brooding fiancé.

*****

The next morning's breakfast table saw an odd mix of emotions. Ginny ate rapidly and in silence, warily eyeing Hermione and alternating between awkward throat clearing and heavy sighing. Hermione, on the other hand, had her eyes buried in her Transfiguration text, busily sketching out the independent study plan she was due to discuss with Professor McGonagall today; though she maintained an air of calm disconnect, Hermione reined in her anxiety. Harry never raised his eyes off his plate. Neville watched the entire scene – or strange lack thereof – with bewilderment.

Hermione didn't bother to drag her attention from her study plans when the post owls came swooping into the Great Hall in a flurry of wings and hoots and screeching, as everyone she'd corresponded with by post was either here at school, had already responded to the wedding invitations or, in the case of her parents, wasn't speaking to her at all. So it was with a shriek of surprise that Hermione brushed the splattered cereal milk off of her school robes and parchment before fishing a tightly furled parchment out of her discarded bowl. A confused furrow in her brow, she unrolled the parchment and felt her nerves jump when she noticed the spiky writing.

"Oh, Merlin, what have I done now?" she muttered to herself as she noted that the slashing script had clearly been written in haste.

Granger,

The fact that he had addressed her by her last name and only bothered to write his first initial as a signature did not bode well. Not at all well. She risked a glance up to the head table where she noticed that the originator of the missive was scowling into his coffee and clearly trying not to roll his eyes as Tonks prattled away happily to both Flitwick on her left and Snape on her right. Hermione felt her pulse jump as she watched him, the cogs in her mind whizzing into gear trying to discern why he could be annoyed with her, when she saw Severus's shoulder hitch upward jerkily, as if to dispel a bothersome insect, before transferring his gaze immediately and unerringly to hers. His dark eyes narrowed, and his face was a thundercloud.

"Good Lord," Hermione said, turning back to pack away her Transfiguration work.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Ginny asked in a cautious voice. "Not bad news, I hope?"

When she directed a level gaze at the redhead, the carefully-masked sorrow in Ginny's countenance faded away, leaving only worry for her friend. Hermione decided to have pity on her.

"Well, seeing as how it's from Snape, and he wants to see me right after his first class," Hermione said, gesturing with the parchment, "I can only assume I've fouled something else up. God only knows what though. With him, it could be anything from last year's Potions work to the color of the napkins at the reception."

Harry's face turned stormy but Ginny snorted in amusement.

"Don't let him push you around then," she said with a smirk.

Hermione gave her a lopsided smile in return. "No, I don't think I will."

*****

Hermione waded through a crowd of tetchy first-years, buffeted along as they did their best to exit the dungeon classroom as quickly as possible. Judging by their haste and the terrified expressions on more than one face, there was no doubt that Snape was in a towering temper and spoiling for a fight. Hermione straightened her robes, straightened her spine, and marched into the Potions dungeon as soon as the doorway emptied. She tried neither to hurry nor to linger as she walked up to where he had his back to her, flicking his wand in irritated jabs as he wiped the blackboard free of instructions and tidied up his workspace.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, her voice only a tiny bit wobbly.

Snape whirled on the spot, his wand still thrust outward; Hermione couldn't help it: she flinched and nearly raised her wand to cast a Shield Charm.

His heavy brows drawing tight over the deep black eyes, now nearly crackling with fury, Snape prodded his desk drawer, which flew open and relinquished a thick parchment envelope bearing a suspiciously familiar seal. Another jab of his wand sent the envelope careening across the desk at her.

"What in blazes is the meaning of this?" he bellowed. "Explain yourself this instant!"

Only mildly ruffled at his bluster, Hermione made a show of bending over to pick up the envelope and examining the contents.

"It appears to be a copy of our marriage ceremony, sir."

"A ceremony which you sent in without my consultation and certainly without my consent!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him – which only caused him to further reddened in large splotchy patches across his pallid face – and calmly replied, "I wasn't aware that your consent was required, sir."

Snape crossed his arms over his chest and glowered down at her. "Of course my permission was required," he said, sneering. "You didn't think I was simply going to let you witter away on your own without reining you in, did you?"

Recalling what Snape had tried to impart to her at his father's estate, Hermione crossed her arms in a mirror gesture to his own and rested a hip against the first student work table, adding a forced casualness in response to his angry blustering.

"On the contrary, Professor, you agreed to let me do whatever I want with the ceremony as long as I adhered to your guidelines."

To her quickly-stifled amusement, Snape looked genuinely gobsmacked by that. After a second to regroup, he managed, "I would never in my right mind agree to such terms."

"You didn't just agree to them, Professor, you presented them,¬" she said. Before he had a chance to retort, she continued. "In fact, your exact words were, let me see ... 'I will not pretend that this is not a marriage of convenience. I will not participate in anything overly saccharine or sentimental. I will not play the part of anything but a surly forty-one year old, and I will certainly not be overly social at any type of reception. Aside from that, I will allow you to plan the ceremony as you will.'"

Snape glowered at her as she recited his own words back to him.

"Did I not follow your guidelines?" she asked in an overly-sweet voice. Hermione reached forward and sifted through the copied pages of the ceremony that the Ministry had sent Snape.

"Nowhere did I state that this was a love match – in fact, I only used the word 'love' thirteen times in the entire ceremony..."

"Not superstitious then, it would seem," Snape sneered, but Hermione ignored him.

"...nor did I require you to spout anything that I thought you would consider overly-sentimental. I did not write in anything that would contradict your admittedly surly behavior..." Snape scowled even more fiercely, "...and though the reception is not included on this document, I assure you that I have nothing more social planned for you than one single dance as man and wife. Barring that, you can be as unpleasant and reclusive as you like. So you can see, Professor, since I've met the only terms you saw fit to set out, I had your permission to plan the ceremony to my heart's content."

Severus's mouth dropped open just a tad, and while he was still thoroughly annoyed with the impudent little chit, somewhere in the back of his mind, Severus had to admit grudging respect that Granger had out-Slytherined him. She had somehow managed to beat him. Fairly. It was humiliating. Snapping his teeth together with an audible click, it took Severus only a moment to regroup.

"And what exactly is this all about?" he said, jabbing a finger towards two large blank spaces on a page late in the ceremony.

Hermione nodded. "The vows. There is a section for the best man to offer on your behalf, then you add your vows, then Ginny will speak on my behalf, and then my vows. I thought it would be nice if we each offered something we wrote ourselves rather than me trying to put words in your mouth."

"I told you that I would be offering no sap or poetry."

"I don't expect sap or poetry," Hermione said through gritted teeth, nearly at the end of her tether. At this point, she had a feeling he was being contrary solely for the vicious pleasure of raising her hackles.

"As you can see from what I wrote here, the ceremony – and, I hope, our marriage – will be based on truth, honesty, and trust. I only expect you to offer what you are truly and honestly willing to give me. Nothing more; nothing less."

Severus grumbled for a moment and then fell silent. For a long while, Hermione thought she might actually have won. A small smile of triumph on her lips, Hermione bent to shuffle the pages back in order and place them back in the envelope. That was, until Severus bent over her and hissed in her ear, his voice sharp and thick with seething anger.

"And the end of the ceremony, Miss Granger? Is that what you call a marriage 'based on truth, honesty, and trust'?" He spat the last few words as if they were acid, intended to burn her.

Bewildered at the sudden, genuine loathing in his voice, Hermione snapped her head up to search his eyes. They burned with anger, but far beneath the vitriol, there was something more vulnerable. Had Hermione not believed it to be nearly absurd, she would have said that it was betrayal. As if she had hurt him. As if she had wounded him to the core.

"Wha...the wand binding, you mean?" Hermione asked, the age-old ceremony being the only thing she could conceive of which he might have an objection.

"The wand binding," he said acerbically. "Do you have any idea just what you are broadcasting to the world by including a Binding Charm, Granger? Do you even know what they mean?"

"I...they...they join a couple together through the core of their magic," she said, tripping over the definition she'd located in a book of wizarding marriage traditions.

"And?"

Hermione searched her mind, desperate to discover what offended him so. "And ... couples who have been bound through their wands can share powers sometimes, and ... and it deepens the emotional bond between the couple."

And there it was, Hermione realized, she'd come to the root of it. He didn't want to be forced to be emotionally tied to her. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized just how powerfully he must hate her.

"Spare me your theatrics, Granger," he hissed. "It isn't about emotional bonding, and you know it!"

"What, then?" she said, sniffling.

Snape's long, slim palms slapped against the surface of the desk between them, causing her to jump.

"Violence, Granger! The Charm forcibly restricts the couple's wands from doing each other harm! What you're telling the world is that you believe that the only way I would refrain from attacking you is to be rendered magically incapable of doing so! Is that what you call a marriage based on honesty and trust?!"

Snape roared at her, tiny flecks of spit streaking through the air and she twitched in response to his anger. As he finished his diatribe, however, she felt her own throat flood with fury.

"What I'm telling the world is that I trust you enough to bind myself to you for life! That I trust you enough to share everything I am with you and to share everything you are in return!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, don't be so naïve," he spat. "The wizarding world will not see a marriage between Harry Potter's best friend and a former Death Eater and assume that the Wand Binding is a mark of trust." He ejaculated the word as if intending to skewer her with it.

"Why do you always assume the worse?" she shouted back. "Why must you always presume that everyone in the world is trying to cheat, insult, or hate you?"

"Experience! That is the way the world works, Granger, and anyone who says differently is an idiot or trying to sell you something."

Hermione seethed in quiet fury. "You are horrible."

Snape leaned back and raised an eyebrow at her, leering down from his considerable height. "A master of the obvious as always."

Hermione felt her fingers tighten around her wand until she actually feared she might snap it in half. In the interest of preserving her dignity and avoiding a possible jail sentence for murder, Hermione bent to arrange the wedding ceremony back into the proper order and then thrust it forward at him. Scowling, she said, "Have your vows prepared before the wedding, and make sure that your best man has written a few lines in the proper place."

"No doubt Dumbledore will share your flowery interpretation of the Wand Binding..." he began, but before she could even consider the interesting notion that Dumbledore was his best man (and that he may agree with her on the subject of the Wand Binding), Hermione hollered, "Just do it!" before turning on her heel and striding out of the dungeon, leaving the double doors slapping against each other with brutal force in her wake.

*****

Hermione practically flew up the flights of stairs between the dungeons and Gryffindor Tower; the formidable facial expression and angry tears warded off any straggling students in the Common Room. Once she had barricaded herself in the seventh-year girls' dormitory, she cast several good Silencing Charms. Without thinking, Hermione clasped her hands around the first breakable objects she could find – in this case, the box of miniature snow globes that her father and mother had collected for her over the last decade at various conferences throughout Europe – and hurled them against every flat, hard surface within throwing distance, screaming herself hoarse and ragged before collapsing onto her four-poster in a fit of rage-filled sobbing. For one mad moment, she considered flinging herself bodily out the window to her doom, just to escape the fate in front of her. The thought of a distraught and broken Harry standing over a grave twin to Ron's kept her from doing something drastic.

Equally as potent an argument for life, a graphic suicide seemed too much to Hermione like it would be letting Snape win.

*****

As soon as Hermione had cleared up the splotchy patches on her face with a few well-placed charms, she shucked her school robes and donned a set of clothing pieces that she had chosen very carefully the previous day. That done, she rushed down into the Common Room and heaved a grateful sigh that the target of her intentions was easily accessible. She grabbed Harry's wrist and, without explanation, dragged him up out of his chair and towards the portrait hole. Thankfully, he followed her without complaint.

He didn't speak the entire time she hurried along to the far end of the seventh floor corridor; he didn't need to ask her destination as she paced back and forth in front of the wall across from Barnabas the Barmy. As soon as the door to the Room of Requirement showed itself, Hermione launched herself at Harry, molding her lips against his to silence any questions that he may have wanted to ask. She set to work peeling off his robes before the door had even closed behind the two of them.

A/N - If there is anyone out there who would be willing to beta for me in the future (double points if you can Brit-pick) and wouldn't mind my gaps in updating (triple points if you can be a cheerleader), it would be MUCH appreciated. When I started this fic, my RL friends were my betas, but given the span of time that has gone by, they all have different lives and very few of them still have time to beta fan fic. So if anyone out there would like to help me out, it would be very welcome.