An Agreement Is Reached

Chapter 13: An Agreement Is Reached

Snape sat in front of his desk far into the evening. To his left was a pile of parchment, all graded and suitably endowed with the benefit of his objective, professional opinion in red ink. He'd worked all day at that task, hoping to take his mind off of his situation regarding Miss Bourne. Unfortunately, he'd finished the last of them over dinner, which he'd eaten at his desk. Now there was nothing between himself and his conscience except a bottle of firewhisky and whatever mindless task he could find for his hands. Currently he was playing tiddlywinks with a small pile of dried cockroaches poured from the jar on a nearby shelf, making them jump into the empty shot glass.

Plink! A shiny, brown bug jumped into the glass.

No matter what Dumbledore had convinced her to say at the trial, he'd raped a student. Not just any student, but the only one about whom he gave a damn what she thought of him. Whatever Miss Bourne's opinion of him had been before, right now it was undoubtedly quite low. Plink!

There were no women in his life, and it had been a long time since there had been. A very long time. No matter how much he had abhorred what he must do to her, Severus' body had been a more than willing participant. He tried to erase the memory of her smooth, tight bum bent over that table, but failed dismally. Even the memory was making him shift uncomfortably in his chair.

With a growl he threw the shot glass into the fireplace where it exploded into tiny shards, increasing the already substantial pile of glass on the hearth. Taking his wand off the desk, he snarled a spell and transfigured another cockroach, then filled the resultant shot glass with more firewhisky.

Severus leaned his head forwards onto the heels of his hands, elbows propped on the desk, and stared into the amber liquid, mesmerized by the firelight refracting from its surface.

What was he going to do if Rowan accepted him? He doubted she'd be able to stand his touch, and it was going to make him wild having her always near. What, in all the nameless levels of Hell, had she been thinking to make up such a story and trap him into this? She'd looked awfully collected in that blue gown. More mature, pretty sexy actually. Clearly that witch knew exactly what she was about. What a pity that he, Severus, had been left entirely in the dark.

What did she want him to marry her for anyway? For his sterling character and sunny disposition? Or maybe it was his unequaled skill in the bedroom, now that she'd had a sample. Surely she didn't think he was gentry? He tossed back the shot of firewhisky, slammed the empty glass back on the table and stared back into the flames.

What are you whinging about anyway, Severus? It's not as if lovely young women are lining up for a chance to win your heart and your hand. Why not enjoy the situation she snared you into? Plink.

What are you whinging about anyway, Severus? It's not as if lovely young women are lining up for a chance to win your heart and your hand. Why not enjoy the situation she snared you into? Plink.

Face it, idiot, if it weren't for her, you'd be pacing a cell in Azkaban right now, wondering if it's really possible for piss to freeze in mid-air. Don't even think of blaming any of this on her. You owe her everything, and all she's had from you is pain and humiliation. Whether she planned this or not, being married to you is not going to be good for her. She'll be lucky if she survives with her sanity intact.

You are going to do the honorable thing. You are going to give her the protection of your name. You are going to treat her with every courtesy and consideration. You aren't going to think a lascivious thought in her presence. Right. And dragons shit snowballs. Crash! The glass joined its fellows in shards on the hearth.

Rowan didn't see Professor Snape in the Great Hall at either lunch or dinner after their interview. This was probably a good thing, seeing as how the remaining students and the staff were all sitting in close proximity now. She really didn't think she was ready to handle seeing him publicly and having to pretend that everything was normal.

After dinner, Rowan climbed the stairs, dodging one that tried to switch her to the wrong tower, and answered the problem to enter her dormitory. She had the common room to herself, so she sat in the comfiest chair in front of the fireplace, put her feet up on a needlepoint-covered footstool and watched the fire. She had a notion that this would be a fine time to take up drinking, but she doubted the house-elves would bring her anything stronger than butterbeer, so what was the point?

She stared, mesmerized by the dancing flames. She kept thinking she saw dark eyes staring blearily back at her. She wished she could think of something dignified to say the next time she saw Snape.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she opened her eyes on darkness; she had fallen asleep in front of the fire, which had burned down to red embers. The room had gotten cold and her temperature had dropped while she slept. She shivered all the way up to her room and into bed. She didn't feel warm again until she'd pulled the curtains closed and huddled under all her blankets. Finally, she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

Snape continued to avoid meals in the dining room for the next several days; Rowan didn't see him at all. A part of her was relieved, but another part became increasingly nervous. The longer it was put it off, the harder it was going to be to face him. She really didn't want her next sight of him to be her first Potions class after school resumed. She didn't think she'd be able to cope with that without some practice.

Rowan decided to suck up her courage and go see him again. There was also something very important to ask him that she needed to know before she could make her decision.

She realized she had no idea where his private quarters were. If he was holed up there, she'd never find him. Rowan thought a bit. She'd look for him in the workroom first; if he wasn't there and didn't answer her knock, she'd send an owl. It seemed kind of silly to be sending owls from one part of the castle to another, but if he kept hiding, there wasn't much choice.

Fortunately, that level of initiative didn't turn out to be necessary. Snape was, in fact, in his workroom and the door was ajar. Rowan knocked on the doorframe out of politeness and entered at his acknowledgment. Snape was in the middle of preparing ingredients for something. He had a wooden cutting board set on the workbench and was mincing something purplish with fuzzy tentacles. Rowan wondered what it was; she thought she would recognize all the usual ingredients. She waited while he finished then scraped the minced bits into a waiting bowl, which he covered with a cloth. He washed his hands carefully in the sink, then cleaned the board and knife with a spell and put them away. When he was done, Snape ushered her into his office via the adjoining door.

Rowan turned to face him and took a deep breath before beginning, "I went to see Professor Dumbledore after," Rowan stumbled, after you proposed to me?, "after we spoke the other day."

"And?" Snape's impassive expression wasn't giving her any assistance.

"He explained to me how I got us in this predicament. I'm sorry, I had no idea that would happen."

Snape's lip curled and his expression darkened. In a chilling voice, he asked her, "You are trying to tell me, you had no idea what would come of a young witch making such a public statement? You weren't intending to force me to marry you?"

"Of course not!" Rowan cried, aghast.

Of course not, what a ridiculous notion that such a girl would be so desperate for you she'd maneuver like a Slytherin to have you, Snape's conscience sneered at him. He ignored it.

"I find that rather hard to believe; you presented quite the image of an assured young witch. One who knew precisely what she was doing."

"WHAT? You have the gall to accuse me .... After what happened ... what you DID!" Rowan flushed red and grew almost incoherent with rage.

Snape still wasn't on speaking terms with his conscience; it was making him feel far too guilty for his liking. He decided to stay on the offensive and gave her his best sneer. "If you really felt that way, you could have let me get sent to Azkaban. All it would have taken from you was silence."

"I bloody well SHOULD have! How can you stand there and even FACE me? You should have protected me; I should have been SAFE!" Rowan yelled at Snape until her fury passed to a range where there were simply no words to express it. She snatched a shot glass from his desk and hurled it at his head with all her strength. Snape flinched aside and it crashed into the stone wall behind him, exploding into a shower of fragments. Even more angry at having failed to hit him with the glass, Rowan launched herself, nails bared, at his face. She didn't bother with her wand; she couldn't have spoken a hex right now if her life depended on it. Snape caught her wrists above her head, pulled them down and pushed them around behind her back, winding his own arms around her in the process and holding her tightly against him.

Rowan went spare when she found she was trapped. She howled and writhed every way she could. Eventually her shrieks turned to hysterical sobbing, and she sagged against his chest, where he continued to hold her firmly. In time, her emotion wore itself out and she simply cried on his shoulder, which was conveniently at eye level. Finally, when she could speak again, she hung her head and sniffed. "I'm a Muggle, Professor. I mean, my family is. How could I have known?"

By this time, Snape's conscience had regained the upper hand. He regretted his harsh words and murmured gently in her ear, "I didn't realize that. Of course you couldn't have known. I should not have thought it of you." She sighed and he patted her awkwardly, increasingly aware that he should be stepping back a little, or she would soon be rather shocked. Rowan gave a great sniff; he took the opportunity to let go of her and hand her a plain linen handkerchief from his pocket. She blew her nose into it gratefully and offered it back.

"Keep it. Please." Rowan smiled wanly and stuffed it into a pocket of her robe.

While Rowan collected herself, Snape cleaned up the broken glass with a quick Evanesco. He did not try to repair it – it would have been restored to its original form of dried cockroach, and he did not care to see her reaction to that.

Conscience firmly in charge and libido kept under admirable restraint, Snape spoke to Rowan in a much gentler tone, "I think, Miss Bourne, that I did not make myself fully clear the other day. I am offering you the protection of my name. It is not necessary for you to cohabit with me or to engage in any other activities usual to the married state in order to have that protection."

Rowan tried to read Snape's expression but found herself unequal to the task.

"Let me get this straight," she said slowly and carefully. "You are offering to marry me, live apart, and never touch me again?"

"Essentially, yes." No!

Rowan was silent a long moment. Why did that idea make her so sad? Was it only because as long as she was married to him she wouldn't be able to have another relationship, a loving one, or was there something else?

"There is something I need to know first."

Snape looked at her and answered cautiously. "I will answer, if I can, but be very careful what you ask."

Rowan guessed he was referring to his past. "No, not about that."

"What then?"

"I want to know if you want children. Or rather, if you definitely don't want them."

"I never imagined I would have the opportunity, so I haven't thought about it much. I take it this means you do want them?"

"Yes."

Snape considered his reply carefully, while trying to ignore the part of him that was dancing with glee. Yes! She'll have to let me into her bed for that!

"Right now, while the Dark Lord lives, it would be too dangerous. Any child of mine would be a lever, a pawn. Worse, the blood of a child of my body would have certain properties ...." Rowan gasped, horrified at the implication, but Snape continued quietly:

"Later though, if he is defeated, children would be welcome. Is this acceptable to you?"

Rowan was startled, he almost looked ... hopeful. "I can live with that."

"Is that all that you wished to know?"

"For now." Rowan smiled.

"Are we agreed then? You will wed me?"

"Yes."

Snape let out his breath with a sigh. "I will speak to Albus then. We should have the ceremony right after Leaving. Before the news is published."

"All right." Rowan felt awkward and foolish; this should have been a tender moment, but the circumstances really didn't qualify. She murmured a goodbye and slipped out the door and crept quietly out of the dungeons.

Author's Notes: Greetings to readers and especially reviewers! This is my favorite chapter so far; hope you liked it too. We'll have a couple more mostly quiet ones to let things unwind a bit. As ever, many thanks to Verity Brown for being my favorite (ok, only) beta.