Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine.

Padma was the first to move, untangling herself from Ron and slinking off the couch awkwardly.

"I should probably leave you two to talk," she said calmly as she carefully smoothed out the ends of her dress. Despite this seemingly casual attitude, she made eye contact with Ron, and the look clearly said, Do you need me to stay?

Before Ron could form a response, verbal or otherwise, Snape said, "Thank you, Ms. Patil. Mr. Weasley and I certainly have much to discuss."

Ron swallowed hard, sinking further into the couch. He and Padma shared one last look before she stepped into the fireplace. Her dark eyes were warm and encouraging, and Ron tried to convey a similar confidence with his own wide baby blues, but pure terror was all he could manage.

"Er, good night then, Professor. Ron." The green flames crawled up her legs, engulfing her torso and head, and seconds later she was gone, leaving Ron and Snape completely alone.

Feeling vulnerable on the couch, Ron moved to stand, only to be halted by Snape's raised hand.

"Please remain where you are, Mr. Weasley."

"You, er, you can call me, Ron, you know," Ron said in a weak attempt at reducing the tension.

"I am aware of that," Snape replied, acknowledging the invitation and simultaneously crumpling it.

Silence took hold again, Ron still paralyzed on his couch and Snape cool as a menacing cucumber as he stood in the center of the sitting room. The older man gave the room a once over, his nostril flaring at the Quidditch memorabilia and the lopsided armchair. However, this reprieve was only momentary.

"It is my belief, Mr. Weasley, that you have involved me in something without sharing all of the facts."

How does he know these things?

"How did I guess? Well, it was certainly clear something was afoot when Hermione appeared completely surprised by my presence this evening. Any idiot could see she was not the one who orchestrated the event."

Ron's cheeks colored. He couldn't decide if he was angry or embarrassed, but he did know that all of it was displayed on his overly-expressive face, so he turned decidedly away from the hovering Snape.

"You're right," Ron admitted, avoiding eye contact. "She had no idea you would be there. I knew she might not show up otherwise, so I asked Padma to tell her it was a meeting with donors."

A moment of silence followed the admission, during which, Ron assumed, Snape was either disgustedly examining his framed collection of Quidditch cards or trying to determine the best way to get rid of his dead body. Both seemed equally plausible.

"Is this all in an effort to shame both of us?" Snape asked tiredly. "You're even thicker than I thought if it took you this long to recognize that she and I were... involved."

Careful not to grab his wand, lest he do something he would truly regret, Ron snarled, "I did this for you two. I was trying to reunite you."

This idea alone seemed to tickle Snape, his laugh cold and incredulous.

"You would honestly have me believe that you approve of Hermione and me?"

It was Ron's turn to laugh coldly.

"Of course not. It's just... It's strange. But you're what she wants, and well, it's what needs to happen for both of our sakes."

Snape's eyebrows furrowed in consideration. "What do you mean for both of your sakes?"

"It's what's best for Hermione and me..." Ron hesitated. "Don't you remember what I said on your doorstep? About Hermione's soul being in danger?"

If he was puzzled, Snape's face didn't express it, save for a small tilt of his head.

"Explain," Snape commanded, folding his arms.

Ron folded his own arms and then dropped them, suddenly restless. Should he tell Snape everything? It's not like it involved him... but it did. Ron exhaled in defeat.

"The short story is Hermione and me, well actually just me, but she was there and I think it's affecting her too..."

"Spit it out, Weasley!" Snape barked.

"Sorry," Ron apologized quickly, brushing back his encroaching copper fringe. Sitting up straight, he continued, "At our engagement party, Hermione and I took part in this ancient ritual that is meant to magically bind two people in love. As it turns out, Hermione wasn't in love with me and ran off before we could finish it, but not before I said my part of the incantation."

"You're bound to her," Snape concluded, suddenly looking the slightest bit flustered. His arms had dropped to his side, hanging uselessly as he stared Ron, as if waiting for him to reveal that it was all a lie.

"The good news is," Ron continued, using Snape's momentary shock to stand, "the solution is fairly straightforward. Just have to get you two crazy kids together. So, actually, I guess it's only straightforward in theory."

Snape remained silent, standing quite still in the center of the sitting room rug. He was glaring at the floor, possibly to avoid glaring at the young man across from him.

"Maybe we should move this to the kitchen," Ron suggested cautiously. "I could make us some tea, or we could just sit at the table, instead of standing here... like this."

To his surprise, Snape managed to grunt, "Fine," following him to the tiny rectangular kitchen table. The room was hardly a kitchen, but a kitchenette, just off the main sitting room. The small size of the table made for close quarters, causing both men to sit sideways in their chairs to avoid jamming knees under the table. No request for tea was voiced, so the pair resumed their awkward silence.

"I really shouldn't be surprised that Hermione and I seem to be fated," Snape commented quietly, his baritone voice almost a husky whisper.

"Well," Ron replied, scrunching his nose, "'fated' might be an overstatement of the situation. I mean, it didn't necessarily have to be you that she was in love with. Could have been anyone, really. Besides me, apparently."

"That is true," Snape agreed, his demeanor less aggressive and more pensive as they conversed. "However, I do remember leaving that evening and feeling the slightest bit of relief that she hadn't declared her love. I was... am more acclimated to the role of the jilted."

Ron smiled wryly. "To think you and I might actually have something in common."

Snape managed to snort at the notion. "Perish the thought."

Deciding he might as well wade out into the deep end, Ron asked, "So, if you were relieved, even slightly, why did you leave Hermione's name off that paper?"

"Because I can be ridiculously spiteful," Snape grumbled, his countenance souring. "I never thought I deserved her, but I didn't want her with anyone else. I was angry with her, but angrier with myself for allowing such a fantasy. That kind of anger generally results in doing something idiotic, and I sent the paper off that night."

"You have another chance, though," Ron pointed out. "Tonight might not have gone so well, but I think she's ready to try again."

Snape gave another mirthless laugh.

"I'm not even sure what she sees in me. Granted, I wasn't sure what she saw in you either."

"Oh, the feeling is mutual," Ron replied, standing and giving a little stretch. Snape looked as if he might stand as well, but remained where he was, his hands resting on his knees. "I think the tea's out, but how about some Firewhiskey? I have a bottle somewhere..."

As he dug through the cupboards for the bottle, he heard the chair groan as Snape stretched out his long frame. If he wasn't comfortable, he clearly wasn't leaving, either.

"Right, here we go," Ron said as he surfaced from the cupboard, the bottle of cheap Firewhiskey gripped in one hand. Returning to the table with the bottle and two glass tumblers, he poured them each a glass, ready to dull the frustrations of the day.

"Shall we toast?" he asked, raising his tumbler in the air.

Snape made a noise but similarly raised his glass.

"Right, to Hermione and... whatever it is she sees in either of us."

Clinking glasses in midair, the pair downed their dose in several gulps. Pouring again, Ron decided he probably should try to refocus this pity party on the mission at hand.

"I think you know how you need to fix this," Ron said as he slid Severus his refilled glass.

"Perhaps," Snape replied. He examined the contents of the glass before taking a sip, suddenly more cautious.

"You like the same things she likes," Ron said, taking a sip of his own drink. "That was one of the things she likes about you. Also that you're challenging and... smell like sandalwood?"

Snape looked up from his glass. "Is that all?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "She finds your voice 'compelling'. Need more?"

Snape reacted with a raised eyebrow. Contemplating his glass for another second, he finished his drink and placed the glass down on the small table. Standing up, he gave Ron a nod, and then made his way to the fireplace.

Ron watched as Snape disappeared into the green flames, still nursing his drink. With any luck, his mission might finally be complete.

Krishna leaned against a sink, watching his devotee at work. She was quickly chopping mandrake roots into carefully measured segments, her arm in constant motion. He hadn't seen her very much at temple as of late, but he knew she was keeping up her daily devotions at home, running off to work after saying her morning prayers. Although he generally only checked in on her during her temple visits, and sometimes at moment of extreme crisis, this morning seemed important enough that he had placed himself in the corner of her lab, prepared to watch what unraveled next. He had, after all, worked very hard for this moment.

As if on cue, the lab door opened, a tired-looking Hermione slogging through.

Placing down her knife, Padma glanced over at Hermione, a look of surprise stretching her features. "You came in?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Hermione grumbled, tossing her briefcase on one of the black lab tables. "I had to do something to get my mind off things. Also, I think there's a bit of hangover reliever in my desk."

"Oh, Hermione, you didn't," Padma said, untying her apron. Laying it over her workbench, she walked over to her beleaguered friend, wrapping her up in a quick hug. "You almost never drink. Where did you even find the alcohol?"

"Healer Thomas gave me a cheap bottle of Merlot for Christmas," Hermione muttered. Plopping down on a free bench, she leaned forward, holding her head. "Happy Christmas to me."

Padma sighed and took a seat next to her.

"You know, I really should be cross with you right now. How could you not tell me about you and Severus Snape?"

Hermione groaned.

"Because there was not much to tell. I ruined the whole thing before it even began."

Padma patted Hermione on the back. "I know it's not looking good right now, but I think there's still a future there. That is, if you both want it."

Hermione groaned again and sat up. Gingerly rising from the bench, she waddled over to the office.

"I'll be out in a second. Just need to grab a dose of the reliever."

Padma remained on her bench, studying her hands.

Meanwhile, Krishna waited impatiently for the ginger's arrival. The man had a knack for waiting until the last second.

"I went over to Ron's last night," Padma called out to the office door.

"Really? Why?" Hermione shouted from within the other room.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Padma responded, "Well, to see Ron."

"Of course, but why..." Hermione's thought trailed off. However, it was quickly followed by Hermione bursting out of the office. "You and Ron? Are you two dating?"

"Wow, that hangover reliever really is fast-acting," Padma muttered as Hermione bound over to her.

"Padma, that's wonderful," Hermione said, giving her hands a squeeze. "I think you'll be really good for him."

"Well, nothing officially happened," Padma quickly countered. "I'm not even sure how he feels about me and..."

The door banged open, effectively cutting off the rest of her statement.

Finally, Krishna thought as he watched Ronald Weasley enter the lab.

"Oh, hi," he greeted nervously, holding a manila envelope close to his chest.

"Speak of the devil," Hermione said, smirking at Padma.

Padma's cheeks reddened, and as if in response, so did Ron's.

Watching between the two of them, Hermione began to move towards the office again. "Maybe I should give you two a moment alone."

"No, wait!" Ron hurried over to Hermione, thrusting the manila envelope into her hands. "I actually came to deliver this."

Fingering the envelope, Hermione looked over at Padma, who shrugged.

"Just see what's inside."

Nodding, Hermione carefully lifted the envelope's flap and reached her hand inside. Pulling out a bound periodical, she slowly opened the journal to the flagged page. Her eyes seemed to scan it several times in disbelief before a tear rolled down her cheek.

"I can't believe this," Hermione whispered, brushing the page with her hand. Gently placing the journal down, she picked up her briefcase and turned to the door.

"I have to go now. There's something I've been meaning to say to someone and it's incredibly overdue."

Although her eyes were watery, Hermione couldn't hide the smile spreading across her face. Reaching the door, she looked back at Ron. "Thank you for doing this."

"It's what's meant to be," he replied, returning her smile.

As the door closed behind Hermione, Padma reached for the journal, flipping it open to the same page.

"He reprinted the article," she said. Putting it back on the table, she turned to Ron. "I don't understand; he could have done this years ago."

"That would have required him to swallow his pride," Ron said quietly. "I think this is his way of telling Hermione that he's ready to start over."

Padma smiled to herself. "So I guess this means you're..."

"Free?" Ron supplied.

"Yes, free," Padma agreed as Ron sat on the bench next her.

"I am. In fact, I'm free next Thursday if you'd like to take me out then."

"Aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves?" Padma asked.

"Not at all," he responded, pulling her hands into his lap. "I'm just trying to be assertive."

"Well, luckily for you, I like assertive men," Padma replied, scooting down next to him.

Still standing in the back of the room, Krishna's ruby red lips stretched into his trademark tranquil smile as Padma laid her head on Ron's shoulder.

Hermione stared at Severus' front door. She had mucked up her first two chances, and she refused to allow this one to slip through her fingers. With this is mind, she inhaled deeply and knocked on the door.

As it swung open, Hermione exhaled. She could already see it on his face, in his eyes, in the way his free hand clenched at his side. He had been waiting for her.

"I love you." The words left her lips unrushed. She wanted him to hear every syllable as she tried to imbue them with all of her emotions, all of her love.

He swallowed silently, his Adam's apple bobbing. Then he stepped aside, leaving room for Hermione to walk over the threshold and back into his life.

Accepting the invitation, Hermione moved through the front door, stopping at his side. She reached for his hand, her own trembling with anticipation. Bringing it to her lips, she kissed it before braiding her fingers with his.

And as it turned out, holding hands with Severus Snape was even more thrilling than she had previously imagined.

One Year Later...

Hermione lightly touched the back of her hair. It felt as if it was a wig, sleek and twisted within an inch of its life. It felt foreign. But she would need to show her face in less than a minute, so there was no time to fix it now.

Oddly, she was okay with that. Even an ill-planned hairstyle couldn't dampen her spirits today. Turning to check her reflection in the mirror one last time, she dabbed at her lips and then dropped her hands.

Well, this is it.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione pulled open the flaps of the tent and walked outside. There, centered between two sets of filled chairs, lay a long strip of white cloth, one which ended at an ivory-colored archway and the handsomest potioneer in the room. That thought alone kept Hermione smiling as she slowly progressed down the aisle, a bouquet of Queen Anne's lace gripped between her two hands.

Arriving at the pathway's end, Hermione looked upwards, meeting the fathomless eyes of Severus Snape. Breathing in, her nostrils filled with the smell of sandalwood and old books, a strangely pleasing mixture. Her eyes never left his, not as she repeated the vows, not as he slipped a ring on her finger, not even when she was jolted by the slight pain of the official sealing the bind.

Officially husband and wife, Severus leaned forward, one hand cradling her head as his lips hovered over hers.

"Hermione," he whispered, leaving her in anticipation. "What have you done to your hair?"

"Had a bit of a mishap," Hermione admitted, biting her lip. "It's awful, isn't it?"

"It merely requires an adjustment," he responded. And before she knew it, Severus had untwisted her supposedly elegant hairstyle, leaving equal parts frizz and curls to land on her shoulders.

Leaning away to admire his work, Severus commented, "Much better," before sweeping her into a breathless kiss.

Ron watched this scene unfold from his seat in the second row. His left arm was wrapped tightly around Padma's shoulders as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. Turning to meet the gaze of his beautiful fiancée, Ron had only one thought:

Mission accomplished.

Prompt: In order to redeem his soul, Ron Weasley must bring Severus Snape and Hermione Granger together... preferably in the holy estate of matrimony... then live with the consequences.

A/N: Written as a gift for bardsdaughter1 for the 2012 SSHG Exchange. Thank you to my awesome editing team, which included desigrl - the amazing alpha/beta/cheerleader combo - as well as ofankoma, quaffswinegaily, and wildmagelet, who all stepped in at various points in the project to help edit and Britpick.