Chapter Three

Lavender Brown, Hermione soon realised, wasn't the only one who resented her new status.

Fridays were bad enough for the seventh years. Their first lesson was Muggle Studies (compulsory for everyone), followed by Dark Arts (all pretence at Defence had been abandoned), which meant they had to cope with both Carrows one after another.

Hermione always hated Muggle Studies – an hour and a half of being told her family were the scum of the earth, and that, as a "Mudblood", who had "stolen" her magic, she was not much better. The Carrows really did seem to believe that Muggle-borns had stolen magic from Squibs. It would have been funny if it wasn't so terrifying.

Today Alecto Carrow was lecturing the class on the Muggle-born Registration Committee. 'The Committee was set up and is headed by Dolores Umbridge. Its purpose is to investigate the blood status of Mudbloods and to determine from whom they stole their magic. It will also seek out and bring to justice those who have sought to evade the Marriage Law by going into hiding.

'Those Muggle-borns' (this phrase was always delivered with a sneer worthy of Malfoy) 'who have complied with the Marriage Law are exempt from interrogation, as their magical activity can be monitored and, if necessary, curtailed by their legally magical spouses.' Here she stared pointedly at Hermione, while Parvati and Lavender whispered and giggled, and Crabbe made obscene gestures at her with his fist.

After break, the Gryffindors headed reluctantly for Dark Arts. To add insult to injury, the Gryffindors shared this class with the Slytherins. They were only three weeks into the new school year and were already finding these classes a trial. Last week had been spent learning to perform the Imperius Curse. Hermione, Neville and the rest of the Gryffindors had somehow got away with fairly innocuous commands, such as Barty Crouch Junior had forced on them in their fourth year.

Neville had made Crabbe eat an onion under the impression it was an apple. Hermione had exacted a small measure of revenge on Lavender Brown, by making her turn cartwheels around the room so that her knickers showed. By subjecting Lavender to this small humiliation, she had at least spared her anything worse. Draco Malfoy had made Neville jump off the desk without making any attempt to ensure he landed safely. Neville was still limping slightly a week later.

Today, however, was to prove infinitely worse. The Gryffindors had been dreading the possibility of having to learn more Unforgivable Curses. When Amycus Carrow forced into the room at wandpoint a line of terrified students and explained, with barely suppressed glee, that the cowering students had all earned detention, Hermione remembered with a sinking heart the lists Severus had been poring over the evening before. She also realised that all the students – ranging from fifth years down to miniscule first years – were Muggle-born.

Unsurprisingly, Draco Malfoy was first in line to practise the curse. To Hermione's horror, the student dragged out to face him was Colin Creevey's younger brother, Dennis. Hermione remembered how excited the boy had been to join Hogwarts three years ago and wondered why the Creeveys hadn't gone into hiding like so many other Muggle-borns.

Amycus Carrow's harsh voice cut the air. 'All these students have committed crimes under the school rules, and they're Mudbloods. That means they stole from pure-bloods. They deserve this.'

Draco raised his wand. The scream Dennis Creevey uttered would stay with Hermione for ever. When Draco lowered his wand, Dennis crawled into a corner of the classroom and curled up there, shaking and sobbing. But he wasn't shaking half as much as Neville, who was next in line to perform the curse. Facing him was a small dark-haired first year girl, trembling from head to foot, tears streaming down her face.

Neville, white to the lips, stared at Professor Carrow. 'No,' he said clearly. 'I won't do it. Look at her; she's terrified.'

'She's a Mudblood,' Carrow replied, 'and yeh're pure-blood, Longbottom. Do yer duty.'

'Yes,' said Neville defiantly. 'I am pure-blood, and I'm better than this. I won't do it!'

Carrow made no reply but to slash the air with his wand. Neville gasped as a long cut like a sword-slash appeared on his cheek.

'Granger!' bellowed Carrow. 'Let's see if yeh have more guts than this snivelling coward.'

Hermione took a deep breath. 'No.'

'Granger, this is a Mudblood. Fancy taking her place, do yeh?'

Hermione held her ground. 'My name is now Snape, Professor. I refuse to do this, and if you have any objections, I suggest you take them up with the Headmaster. You can explain to him why you saw fit to torture his wife.' She turned to go, then felt a stinging pain on her right cheek. Raising her hand to her face, she felt a long gash like Neville's, and her fingers came away covered in blood. Suppressing her nausea, she stalked out of the classroom, forcing herself not to run until she turned the corner.

*

'Pure-blood.' Hermione spat the Headmaster's password at the gargoyle and stormed past Severus into the bathroom, pointedly ignoring him. As she examined the wound on her cheek, she realised he was staring at her in the bathroom mirror.

'What has happened to you?' he asked brusquely.

'Ask your friend Carrow,' Hermione snapped.

'I beg your pardon?' Severus had gone white.

'You heard me. Your mate Amycus did this to me. That's between torturing all those poor kids you condemned to detention yesterday.' Hermione was dabbing furiously at the cut with her handkerchief, but it was still bleeding.

'Let me help you,' Severus said, but his voice was cold.

'I can manage, thank you,' Hermione replied stiffly.

Severus took hold of her shoulders and swung her round to face him. 'Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. I can staunch the bleeding in an instant.' He moved to the medicine cabinet on the wall and took out what looked like a handful of lichen.

'What's that?' Despite herself, Hermione was intrigued.

'Bloodmoss. I do not have my accustomed access to potions ingredients any longer, and this is quite severe, so if I heal you magically without them you may have a scar. I wouldn't want to mar my wife's pretty face.' His voice was carefully neutral, and Hermione couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Gently, he laid a strip of moss against the cut. It bonded to her skin immediately, stemming the bleeding. She now had a strange brown scab over the wound, but it didn't sting any more. Severus cupped her chin in his hand; she shrank from the unaccustomed contact, but he was surprisingly gentle as he wiped the drying blood from her face.

A little blood had run down to the corner of her mouth. With intense concentration, Severus wetted the handkerchief and wiped the blood from her lip. His eyes never left her mouth. Heat flooded Hermione's face; this intense scrutiny was disconcerting. She was trying to decide whether it was in a good or bad way when they were interrupted by the bell for lunch, immediately followed by a stentorian bellow.

'Snape! Get yerself out here; I want to talk to yeh!'

Carrow must have dismissed his class early.

Severus put a finger to his lips. 'Stay here. Lock the door.' He strode out of the bathroom with a face like thunder.

Hermione waited thirty seconds, then crept out and tiptoed into the sitting room to listen.

'I would appreciate it if you would kindly refrain from attacking my wife.' Severus' voice was cool and authoritative.

'Yer wife, eh?' sneered Carrow. 'Care what happens to her, do yeh?'

'It is merely that when she is angry, it is I who bears the brunt. She is intelligent enough, but she is a headstrong girl and has inconveniently strong morals.'

Carrow gave a wheezy giggle. 'Then pull her back into line, Snape. Good dose of Cruciatus every day'd soon show her who's boss.' He lowered his voice, and Hermione had to press her ear to the sitting room door to hear. 'While she's in my classes, I'll deal with her how I like.'

It was Severus' turn to sneer now. 'You would like me to go to the Dark Lord and explain that you are flouting my authority, would you? The Dark Lord chose me as Headmaster, not you, and in this school, the Headmaster is in command.'

Having been bested on his standing with Voldemort, Carrow tried another tack. 'Took yer time getting out here, Snape. Doing yer little Mudblood tart, were yeh?'

Behind the sitting room door, Hermione flushed with anger and embarrassment.

When he answered, Snape's voice was glacial. 'That, Amycus, is none of your business.'

'I'm glad it isn't. Wouldn't catch me shagging a Mudblood. Surprised you can get it up.' A pause. 'Maybe you can't. That why yeh're so crabby, eh, Headmaster?'

'You will find yourself a candidate for the Marriage Law soon enough. Although you will have a choice of bride – a luxury which was not afforded me. Now, if all you are here for is to insult my,' Severus paused delicately, 'capabilities, I will thank you to get out of my office.'

The office door opened, there was the sound of heavy footsteps receding, and the door was slammed with a resounding bang.

Hermione wrenched open the sitting room door and stormed into the office. Utterly humiliated, she took out her anger on Snape. 'Headstrong, am I? Intelligent enough? Inconveniently moral, am I? Well, for your information, I wasn't afforded the luxury of choice either.'

White faced, Severus whirled round to face her, but she strode past him, throwing him a contemptuous look over her shoulder. 'And now, thanks to your charming friend, I am going to be late for Transfiguration!' The office door slammed a second time.

Panting with fury, Severus hurled himself into his chair. On the desk was the philosophy book Hermione buried her nose in at every possible opportunity. It was open at a chapter discussing the philosophical worth of the Bible. His gaze fell on a quote from Solomon: "Better to live in the desert than with a quarrelsome and ill-tempered wife."

Severus had never agreed with anything so whole-heartedly in his life.

*

A/N: The quote is Solomon 21.9. Bloodmoss is mentioned in Philip Pullman's 'His Dark Materials' trilogy.

Yes, I know 20th Sept 1997 was a Saturday. Artistic licence.