Seven

AN: Okay, for everyone who keeps looking at the R rating and shaking their heads (I can hear it, okay?), I promise you that the next chapter will have some smutty stuff in it. Borderlining NC-17, even. In fact, I may need to change my rating on this story later.

Oh, and because I suck, I rarely thank my reviewers. I don't know why, I'm mostly superstitious that I won't get any reviews if I thank people. Anyway. Thanks.

Hermione stalked up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower. She was incredibly angry. After going around in circles for three hours with her father about her pending marriage, she felt like punching someone. If only Malfoy would cross her path and call her a Mudblood...

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron said happily. "Why are you going the wrong way? It's time for lunch, and I'm starving."

She stopped on the stairs and looked up at her friends who were standing a few steps above her.

"I'm not hungry," she admitted. It was the truth, she felt sick.

"Are you all right?" Harry looked very concerned.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, bouncing down the steps to stand next to her. "I saw your father come in."

Hermione shrugged. She wasn't ready to have this conversation quite yet. "Listen, guys, just go on without me. I want to take a bath..."

She brushed past them and practically ran up to her room. She knew that throwing herself across her bed and pouting would do no good. She also knew that crying wouldn't help much, either. She just couldn't help herself. Her father had really made her angry, and what's more, his absolute refusal to accept the reality that she offered him ruined a bit of her childish belief that her father was the greatest man in the world. In the logical part of her mind, she always knew that he was just a flesh-and-blood man, but her heart always looked at him as the superman who could do anything. His loss of temper at Hermione's insistence that she would indeed be married could actually be categorized as a tantrum.

"Hermione?"

She felt a person sit next to her on the bed, and by the voice, she knew it was Ginny.

"Ginny, I really don't want to talk right now."

"I've never seen you cry."

Hermione turned over and wiped a few tears out of her eyes. "I thought that explaining my engagement to Harry and Ron would be the hardest part of all of this. Especially since I'm going to marry Snape." Her best friends had actually taken the news quite well, considering their deep abiding hate for the man.

"What is your father upset about?" Ginny asked, making herself comfortable against one of the posts, bringing one knee up to her chin.

Hermione sat up and faced her, leaning against the headboard. "I can't think of any part of it that he doesn't object to. He is upset that he's not considered the head of my family since he is not a wizard. He thinks that as my father, he ought to have some say in this. Honestly, Ginny, I now understand why he couldn't have been in control of this situation."

"But you told both your parents about the law, didn't you?"

"Of course I did! I've sent them copies of everything-the articles in The Daily Prophet, the letters that Professor McGonagall and I have received from The Ministry, all of my petitions...You'd think that I've been keeping him in the dark from the way he reacted."

Again, she felt the urge to punch something.

"What did he say?"

"Well, first he wanted to know why I'm getting married this early in my life at all. I referred him to the law and pointed out that I don't have much choice. He argued that I should be able to say no if I want to. No matter how much I tried to convince him that it's not that simple, he wouldn't listen."

Ginny picked at a lint ball on her skirt. "What did he think about your choice?"

Hermione buried her head in her hands. "That was the worst part. He couldn't believe that I'm marrying a teacher. He thinks that Snape seduced me somehow, and threatened to have him thrown out of the school."

She paused for a few moments, remembering the look on her father's face, and the way his fist ground into his hand when he refused to allow his daughter to go through with this.

"Then what?" Ginny asked impatiently.

"I told him about Malfoy and Parkinson and how he's leaving the school anyway. Needless to say, it only made matters worse. Now he wants to know what they're teaching us here, and had he known about all this, he never would have let me spend so much time with Ron and Harry."

"Bloody hell, Hermione, I'm so sorry."

Hermione brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "All of that still could have been managed, had I not suddenly realized how little my father thinks of me, and how little he trusts me to make the right decisions."

"I hadn't thought of that. Really, he's probably just angry that his baby is going to get married. Mum sometimes talks about how her grandfather hexed her father when he asked for permission to marry my gran."

"I suppose." It didn't help a lot, but it did help. "I just feel as though he's never going to get over the age difference, and Snape's semi-responsibility for what happened with Pansy and Draco."

"What happened between them is their fault, not Snape's. I'm sure he'll come around soon. After all, you came from him, he must be as smart as you."

Hermione thought for a moment, and weighed everything that had been said. "Maybe my dad is mad because no one has asked for his opinion in all this. You said that your grandfather asked for permission-no one has done that with my parents. I've just been telling them what will happen without asking them how they feel about it. Maybe if I got them together with Snape and..." she suddenly realized how stupid that sounded. "Oh, never mind. Snape would scare them both off in three seconds, and my father would lock me up and throw out the key."

Ginny laughed a little too hard at that in Hermione's opinion, but she knew that it was true. Her dour Potions Professor was not exactly the sort of person that you take home to meet your parents. Still...it wouldn't hurt to ask him if he'd do it. Hermione was sure that he'd refuse, but she thought that it might make Snape feel a little better about the situation, as though she were truly accepting him not just in word, but also in spirit.

"Hermione?"

She looked back at Ginny. "Huh?"

"I asked you what you're thinking about."

Feeling a lot lighter, Hermione stood up and stretched her arms over her head. "I have a plan. Come on, let's go eat."

They hurried down the stairs and found Ron and Harry tucking away quickly while wrapping extra food in their napkins.

"We didn't think you were going to make it," Ron explained as he emptied his pockets. "We were going to bring you some provisions."

Hermione smiled at him. "Thanks, Ron."

"So, you're feeling better then?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded and patted his arm. "Yes, thank you."

She looked over at the head table to hopefully catch Snape's eye only to find that he was not present.

"Where's Professor Snape?" she asked.

Ron shrugged. "Who knows? Here, try the chicken."

~*~*~*~

"That stuff smells awful, Severus."

"Fancy that."

"It looks like something out of a baby's dirty nappy."

"Speaking of dirty nappies, don't expect me to change any."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Besides, you'll be having your own soon enough. Hermione doesn't seem like the sort of girl who would let you off very easily."

Snape looked up from the two potions he was brewing. He hadn't thought much beyond marrying Hermione, but he was almost positive that children wouldn't be in his near future. "Don't put the cart before the horse, Thalia."

His sister approached the cauldrons and wrapped her arms around him. "I appreciate this, Severus. I really do."

Snape patted her hand and then turned back to his work. He was making two fertility potions. Both Thalia and her husband Loren refused to undergo an examination to determine whose fault their barrenness stemmed from. Naturally, Thalia was convinced that it was Loren. Snape wondered, though, if it had anything to do with them being purebloods. Pasithea and her husband did not seem to have any trouble producing children and were already up to three, but Ian was a halfblood. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had also been forced to turn to potions to have Draco, and in light of the recent law, it seemed plausible that his sister was suffering from too much inbreeding.

Snape held back a grimace when he thought about Draco and how he was turning out to be just like his father in all ways. He turned his mind to more pleasant thoughts, though, and turned to his sister with a slight smile. "You'll have to take this twice a day every day, you know."

Thalia made a face. "Ugh. If it smells that bad, I can only imagine how it will taste."

Snape didn't yet feel like telling his sister that the consistency, texture and taste would change dramatically as he added the last few ingredients. The two potions were almost exactly the same, but mandrake blossoms were added to the female concoction that were not added to the male version, and the male version required three hairs from the head of a virgin.

He looked up at his sister, intent on saying something, but his words died on his tongue as one of his spyglasses alerted him to a visitor in the potions classroom.

"Just a moment, Thalia. I think a student must be looking for me."

He crossed the room and removed the wards that separated his office from his private quarters. Stepping out into the classroom, Snape found Hermione looking around curiously.

"Miss Granger," he said as he came up behind her.

"Bloody hell, you scared me!" she cried, practically jumping three feet into the air.

Snape contained his pleasure well. "I might be able to say the same about you. This is Saturday, why are you not out with your friends?"

"I wanted to talk to you," she said quietly.

Snape's father had been overjoyed when the Ministry sent him a letter confirming the engagement of Snape to Hermione. Snape only hoped she wasn't having second thoughts, or he'd never hear the end of it.

"Come in this way," he said, taking her arm and leading her through his office. Once back in his own private potions room, he motioned her to go stand next to Thalia. "I believe you've already met my sister?"

Hermione nodded. "Hello, Mrs. DeWinter."

Thalia smiled kindly. "As we are to be sisters, you may call me Thalia."

"Then you must call me Hermione. Your brother already does. Sometimes."

"Indeed." Her tone sounded a little too intrigued for Snape's liking.

He sighed. "Ladies, please, I'm concentrating."

He had no idea what happened after that, as his head was bent over the cauldrons, but he heard Hermione giggle loudly, and his head snapped up quickly.

"Hermione, I do believe that you came here just at the right time. This potion calls for three hairs from the head of a virgin, and my sister seems to be ineligible. You'd do nicely, though."

He grabbed her before she could run away from him and held her with one arm so that her back was pressed tightly against his chest.

"Why don't you just take them from your own head, you git?" Thalia asked.

Snape sneered at her. "Har har."

"I don't remember agreeing to this," Hermione said.

"Yes you did," Snape told her as he separated three hairs from the rest of her mane.

"When?" she turned her head a little to quickly and the hairs pulled. "Ow!"

"When you came to inform me of your decision, you said that you'd like to help me with my potions. This will help me. Shall I pull them one at a time, or all at once?"

"How about not at all?" Thalia said, pulling Hermione from his arms. "Merlin, but you're a terrible flirt. You always have been. No wonder you're still a virgin."

Snape ignored the barb, but not before he caught a glimpse of Hermione's shocked face when she realized that he had indeed been flirting with her. He needed to get ahold of himself.

"Never mind. I don't need your filthy hair after all, someone else has already contributed."

"I'd hardly call your hair clean," Thalia continued to taunt.

Snape pulled a covered vial from his robes with a flourish and set it down between his sister and fiancée.

"There," he said happily. "That I got from a willing participant."

Hermione lifted the vial and inspected the hairs. "Ginny?" she asked incredulously.

"Correct assessment," Snape answered as he took the small bottle from her. "She came down last night to see me. I decided that since she was here, I'd ask her for them." Separating the hairs, he added three to one cauldron and the mandrakes to the other. Immediately, buttery yellow smoke began to billow up from them and swirl around the room, changing the smell from rather dank and unpleasant to wonderfully delicious. He eyed Thalia with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. She glowered back at him.

As the hours went by and the potion brewed, Snape relaxed in a chair and watched as Hermione and Thalia slowly became friends. He was amazed at how quickly his pupil picked up on his family's dry and acerbic sense of humor, and she bantered quite easily and wittily with him and his sister, causing the afternoon to go by rather quicker than he had expected it to. Soon he was adding the finishing touches to the potions and bottling them for his sister.

"I'll put Loren's in these black bottles and yours in the red ones, Thalia. Remember, twice a day for at least three months. No more than a spoonful."

He watched as Thalia lifted one of the red bottles and looked it over. "Very well," she said a little dejectedly.

Snape finished bottling and sealing the potions, then he boxed them up and shrank them down so that Thalia could fit them in her pocket. He watched as Thalia gave Hermione a kiss and put the box away before she walked towards the door.

"Thank you, Severus."

"Come along, I'll walk you out."

Thalia nodded as Snape took her arm.

"Hermione, I shall return shortly. Please wait here. And don't...touch anything."

Hermione actually didn't need to be told to leave Snape's private rooms alone, but when he forbade her to touch anything, she found herself growing curious. After all, she could walk around without touching anything, right? Slowly, as though the room would swallow her up at the slightest movement, Hermione began to inspect all the different potion ingredients as well as bottled potions that her professor kept in his private stock.

There was a door at the far end of the room, and she walked over to it, reaching out tentatively to touch the handle as though it would bite her. Luckily, nothing happened and the knob turned quite easily. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped forward quickly so that hesitation would not keep her out.

Behind the door was a large rectangular space that was crowded with books. There were two chairs sitting in the middle of the room with books on them. By the fireplace sat a table and dilapidated looking sofa. The table was covered with stacks of books, and some were even crammed underneath. Beside the sofa and behind it there were also books. They all ranged in size and shape, but they were bound with leather and more than a few were in bad need of repair.

In the corner, near a high window, sat a perch with an owl dozing atop it. Hermione zigzagged her way through the room to the owl and studied it until it opened one eye and began to study her right back. After what seemed like hours, it opened both eyes and tipped its head in a becoming fashion, inviting her to scratch it.

"What's your name, little fella?" Hermione asked as the owl leaned against her affectionately.

"His name is Bubonis."

Hermione gasped and turned around to find Snape watching her from the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I told you to not touch anything."

Hermione snatched her hand away from the bird and gave him a brilliant smile. "I didn't really."

The corners of his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly, and she rushed to him, tripping over a stack of books as she did so. Had he not been there to catch her, she was sure that it would have all ended badly, and she would be on her way to the infirmary with a broken neck. Of course, had he not scared her, she wouldn't have felt the need to rush in the first place.

All those thoughts left her head as he righted her, his hands lingering on her arms. And then she started thinking about how it felt to be pressed against him as he flirted with her-or at least, his sister had accused him of flirting and he hadn't denied it-and it had felt wonderful. She knew that she was blushing, but she couldn't help herself.

"I usually have my books in better order," he said apologetically as he rearranged the books she had just knocked over. "I've been here for nearly twenty years, and if I expect to be out completely by the end of the school year, I need to start cleaning out now."

Hermione nodded, her head feeling oddly light. He was still holding her shoulders.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his hand cupping her cheek.

Hermione gulped audibly. He was standing so close to her, looking more concerned than she even knew him capable of, and she desperately wanted to kiss him. "I think I'm all right." Her shin was throbbing. "Just hit my leg a little..."

Snape ushered her to the sofa, and he lifted the leg of her jeans to reveal a livid spot that was already beginning to turn purple.

"All right, I have something that will help this. Just...sit there, and for the love of Mike, don't touch anything."

Hermione almost laughed at the look on his face. "Yes, Professor."

He exited the room quickly, then came back with a small jar in his hand. "You're suddenly very contrite," he observed as his warm hands took ahold of her leg and his fingers gently rubbed some sort of cream into her wound.

Hermione gasped at first, but then the healing properties of the cream went to work on her leg, and she felt the pain begin to dissipate with every pass of his fingers.

"I'm not contrite."

"You didn't yell at me for startling you, and you nearly apologized for invading my personal living space. What can this mean, Miss Granger? Are you losing your spark?"

Hermione glared at him before kicking her leg out of his grasp. "Are you quite finished molesting me now, Professor Snape?"

Snape looked back at her, an amused expression on his face. "Ah, now that's more like it. I feared you were losing your touch for a moment."

Hermione glared at him and stood up, attempting to throw him off balance, only to have him rise with her, still smirking at her in amusement. He was really beginning to irritate her.

Trying a new tactic, Hermione reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his cheek. Again, she had hoped that this would throw him off balance in some way, or at least make him stop smirking at her. Instead, she found herself thrown off balance as he pushed her against the sofa, maneuvering them so that she was lying against it on her back, and he was lying against her.

Hermione gasped when he pressed himself against her and began to caress a lock of hair that fell against her shoulder and down over her breast. What could it mean? Was he going to kiss her?

"My sister likes you," he said quietly, brushing her hair out of her face.

"She's not the only one," Hermione answered boldly, running her hand up his arm.

"Quite right, my dear. My father fancies you as well."

Hermione laughed. "Is that all?" Was she flirting back now? What was wrong with her! She should be angry with Snape for violating her personal space. Except...she was enjoying herself. She liked how he invaded her personal space. She especially liked how his hand was caressing her thigh at the moment.

"I don't know if we could count my owl as a member of the family per se, but I believe that he likes you."

Hermione pushed him away from her slightly. "You know what I mean!"

He refused to budge and actually leaned closer. "If you're expecting me to take back the 'insufferable know-it-all' comment, then you are setting yourself up for a rather large disappointment."

"I wasn't expecting you to take that back," Hermione countered, feeling oddly elated. "After all, if you took that back, then I'd have to take back calling you a 'greasy old bat'. Where would the fun be in that?"

Elation turned to slight fear when his thumb began to circle a spot on her shoulder, under her blouse.

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked a little suddenly, his thumb still caressing her skin.

"Uh...talk about?" Hermione was beginning to feel very odd.

"Earlier, when you came to see me. You said that you wanted to talk to me about something."

She drew in a deep breath and let it out shakily. He was so darn close to her! "Oh...that..."

"Yes, that. What was it?"

"My father came by. He's really upset about all of this. I was thinking that if you were to meet my parents, maybe they'd feel a little better?"

She looked into his eyes and found that he seemed to be laughing at her, though his face didn't show it. Still, there was an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes.

"Do you really think that my talking to your father will make him dislike the idea of his only daughter being forced into a marriage any less?"

Hermione looked down at the button on his shirt, and her hand unconsciously went to play with it. "No, I suppose not. But then maybe he'll get to know you a little better?"

He grasped her hand and pulled it away from his button. "Do you truly feel that meeting me would alleviate his fears?"

"Probably not," she admitted. "But, he could at least get used to the idea of you before the wedding."

He seemed to consider what she was saying as he continued to look into her eyes intently. Hermione wondered what he was thinking, but she couldn't bring herself to ask him. She was still struggling with the fact that she enjoyed being this close to him. Of course, they were going to be married, so she should enjoy being with him. But still, for the next few weeks, he would be her teacher first and foremost, and this should be forbidden. Especially since it felt so wonderful.

Suddenly, he stood up and pulled her with him. "I'll think it over. Come now, it's time for dinner."

Hermione looked up at Snape and debated kissing his cheek again. As though he knew what she was thinking, he turned around and led her out of his rooms, walking ahead of her while holding her hand so that she couldn't latch onto him again.

Resigned, Hermione followed.

TBC