Impasse

Thanks to my wonderful beta: Nakhash Mekashefah, who cleans my grammar and punctuation up with exacting standards.

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"Father, as soon as I'm out of Hogwarts, I will take you back home," Draco said.

"Home?"

"Yes, Malfoy Manor. I will have healers there; they will start visiting with you next week. I've been told you can still read, right?"

"Yes...yes, I can read. Healer Gatsby gave me a nice book to read this week..."

"Never mind what she gave you to read. I'm going to bring you some things...you need to get ready, and learn about everything I bring you. I can't tell you everything now, but there's something important you will have to do when you leave here, do you understand, Father?"

"What do you mean, Darren...?"

"Draco...Father, my name is Draco...Draconis, actually. Call me Draco," he sighed in exasperation at his father.

"Yes, yes, Draco then. What will I have to do?"

"I can't tell you now, but you have to get ready...it's important, do you understand? And you need to work on getting better. Here," he said, pulling some books out of his bag. "I've brought you some picture albums; I labeled them so you can learn about your life. You have to learn about who you are."

"Okay, Draco," Lucius said, taking the books.

"Goodbye, Father. I will return when I can, in the meantime, I will write you. Your new healers will be here next week, and will come once a week," he explained again as he stood and put the chair back in its place against the wall.

Lucius frowned as Draco left the ward, which was mostly lit by glittering garlands strung about the walls and on the footboards of the beds. He wasn't sure what to think. He didn't like the boy. If that really was his son, how could he not like him? Lucius looked over to the bed next to him where a young woman had been brought in the day before. She was wincing in her sleep and whimpering slightly with pain. He was going to call a nurse, but she woke up, swiftly sitting up in bed, eyes wide and breath ragged from her nightmare.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. She looked over to him, startled, and then nodded, her blond hair fell across her face in lank strands, damp with sweat.

"Just...just a bad dream," she said.

"I understand," he said, nodding. Though he remembered nothing of his life, he knew only that he was plagued by nightmares...faces and places he didn't know, and he had woken up screaming on a number of occasions in the time he had lived in the hospital, the only place he knew at all. He stood; placing the albums Draco had brought on the bedside table, and stepped across the space between their beds and sat gently on the side of the young woman's bed, looking with concern at the bruises, which were now fading on her face. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked gently, purposely trying to put on the air of calm caring, as the nurses had done for him during his own night terrors.

She pursed her lips and shook her head, not wanting to relive the nightmare. "No...but thanks for asking. I just need to stay awake for a while; I didn't mean to bother you."

"No bother at all," he said. "If you would like, I can keep you company while you stay awake," he offered, giving her a smile. "I have them too...nightmares, that is."

"Why are you here?" she asked after a moment.

"Memory loss...I don't know who I am...or who I was. It's all very confusing really. I have a son, he tells me it was a curse and he's going to get some people to make me better..." he trailed off with a shrug.

"I'm sorry to hear that. It must be awful not to know who you are," she sympathized.

"I'll survive," he stated with assurance, though he didn't understand why he felt so confident. Perhaps it was all the caring people who surrounded him every day, the healers and nurses were all lovely, helpful people, and, while he still had some trouble remembering names, the familiar faces around him were comforting.

*****

Hermione and Severus Apparated simultaneously back to the gates of Hogwarts. They'd gone out for dinner with her parents before leaving, and Hermione was relieved that the tension between Severus and her Dad was finally abating...they seemed to have settled whatever it was.

Hermione had found several more articles on the topic of sadomasochism, and, since she hadn't had time to read them all, she had printed them out to read back at Hogwarts. Severus had been closed off with her since that morning, barely speaking to her, and she was starting to worry. Her worry grew as they approached the front door of Hogwarts and he shot her an evaluating glance, scowled, and then continued walking.

"Is something wrong, Severus?" she asked as they entered the Great Hall.

"We will discuss it later," he said tightly.

Just as they reached the other side of the Great Hall, they heard Professor Dumbledore call out. "Ahh, Hermione, Severus, how was your holiday?"

"Hello, Headmaster," Hermione said, smiling. "It was good, and yours?"

"Oh, fine, fine. You completed the letters I assume?"

"Yes," Hermione answered, pulling her bag around. "I've got them here," she said, opening her bag and pulling out the stack of parchments."

"Good, I'll have the school owls deliver them. Severus, was it good to finally get away for the Christmas holiday?"

"It was...productive," he answered.

"I hope you didn't spend the entire time grading, Severus," Dumbledore said, chuckling. "If you don't mind, I need to borrow Hermione for a while," he said, and then turned to Hermione. "I hope you might be able to help the Order out on some of our campaign," he said.

"Oh, yes, I'd love to help," Hermione answered.

"Good evening then, Headmaster," Severus murmured, then turned and walked down the steps to the dungeons.

Once Hermione was seated in the Headmaster's office with a cup of tea, Dumbledore began. "It is fortunate, thus far, that there haven't been as many marriages under duress as there could have been. I have been thinking over your idea for a support group for the Muggle-born brides, and I believe that is an excellent suggestion. I am willing to rent the upstairs meeting hall of Madam Rosmerta's pub for bi-weekly meetings, and I would like to ask you to organize these meetings. That is, if you have time between your school work and your Head Girl duties?"

"Oh, yes, I can do that, thank you, Headmaster."

"You're quite welcome, Hermione. Lemon Drop?" he asked.

"No, thanks, sir."

"Very well, more for me," he said, smiling as he plopped a candy in his mouth. "Are you and Severus getting on well, Hermione?" he asked.

"Well enough, I think. It's only been a bit over two months..." she said, shrugging.

"I'd hoped your getaway last month would have been an opportunity for the two of you to spend some quality time together," he said. "Did you have a good time at Hadrian's Wall?"

"Oh...yes...it was nice. Severus found some potions ingredients and herbs he needed on our hike; it was good to get out."

"Perhaps next time I should think of someplace that won't be so rich in potions ingredients..." he said thoughtfully.

"Headmaster...I appreciate it, but really, there's no need to do that," Hermione protested.

"Severus hasn't had a holiday in many years, Hermione. It really is good to see him getting out, and, I must say, he has seemed less prickly for some time now. I just want to be sure that this union is agreeable for the both of you, and I will do what I need to in order to help you along. Remember, Hermione...if ever you need to talk to me about anything, I'm here for you, and I'll understand whatever it is," he said, gazing at her intently.

"Thank you, Headmaster. I appreciate it...everything is fine, I'm sure," she assured the man, hoping it was true. "Well, if that's all, I need to get back and unpack."

"Very well, I will have the owls deliver the return letters to you, and if you need any assistance in organizing, let me know. We do have several members of the Order who would be willing to volunteer to assisting you. Don't take on more than what you can handle."

"Don't worry, I'll let you know if I need help, good evening, Headmaster," she said, her smile turning into an expression of worry as she descended the spiral staircase. She had a bad feeling about something...and she was sure it was to do with Severus and their talk. But, she couldn't avoid the inevitable. She decided to enter her bedroom entrance instead of the living room entrance so she could unpack and take some time to read her articles. After that, she would be more prepared to continue their discussion. It was time to put her foot down...she had entered into a marriage she didn't want, and had agreed to conditions she wasn't fully informed about. Even if she had enjoyed it after a while, that didn't make it right.

The dungeons seemed especially dark and dank, for some reason. And, as she walked down the last corridor to the entrance of their quarters, her stomach quavered in nervousness. Lowering her wards, and unlocking her door, she stepped inside. Once the door was closed and locked behind her, she turned and stopped cold at what she saw.

A bed...in her room.

It was a double size bed placed between the back wall and the window. The bed curtains were plain white, as were the coverings. With a sick feeling, Hermione dropped her bag and walked over to the bed slowly, wondering why he would do this. She saw a parchment folded on the coverlet and picked it up, turning it over to read.

Hermione,

You have accused me of lying to you, I did not. You accused me of misleading you, I have not. When you are prepared to withdraw your accusations, and accept certain conditions, which I will explain to you when you come to me and request to know those conditions, you may return to my bed.

In the interim, you will sleep in your room. We can fulfill the weekly coitus requirements anywhere except for my room. I have made an extra door for you to access the bath.

Hermione crumpled the note in her hands angrily and threw it across the room. "When you can accept certain conditions," indeed.

*****

Severus sat, sipping his Glen Livet. It was a very nice gift from Hermione's father, smooth and well-aged single malt. He wondered how long it would take Hermione to get back from her meeting with the meddlesome Dumbledore. She would be in for a surprise, indeed.

When she had slapped the papers down on his book that morning, and followed that with accusations that he'd lied to her, he had seriously considered bringing her back and whipping her until she proclaimed he was, indeed, her master. However, that wouldn't have worked. Such a blatant exercise of his power over her would only serve to fuel her determination to rebel. So, he would simply wait for her to come back to him. He could wait; he'd had years at a time of celibacy. Hermione, however, had only recently learned of the joys of the flesh. She was young and her hormones would fuel her newfound desires. She had little experience in resisting lust...all points in his favor.

It was simply a question of time.

He was sure it wouldn't take too terribly long for her to finally submit. Perhaps it would be a few weeks...perhaps a few months if she was especially determined. It was only a minor setback. In the long run, a few months of restraint would be more than worth it. He quickly schooled his thoughts away from the image of his young wife, tied beneath him, and instead made his way to the bookshelf, where he withdrew a text. After reading for several moments, the sound of a muffled thump caused him to smirk...yes; she had arrived, and, apparently had been so shocked, she'd dropped something.

*****

Hermione paced her room, trying to figure out what to do, growing angrier with each passing minute. He'd kicked her out! It was unthinkable, inconceivable. How could the man go on and on about how she was his to do with as he pleased, and then ban her from his bed? She laughed after a moment, realizing two could play at that game. He was the one who wanted sex; he was the one who had some strange compulsion to spank her, even if she had enjoyed it too; he obviously thought she would come crawling back, calling him 'Master' and simply allowing things to proceed as they had when she had been ignorant of the rules of their sexual games...rules apparently that others recognized and held to, but he hadn't informed her of.

She made a quick trip to the bathroom, checking first to be sure Severus wasn't in there. The new door had been magically installed along the back wall of her room. When she returned to her room, she unpacked her things, angrily thrusting the new robes Severus had given her into the back of her unused drawer. The book, however, deserved better treatment, and so it went on her shelf. She then sat down on her couch with the stack of articles. She would read them, and then would be able to better argue her position. Maybe she'd been a bit hasty in presenting it to him that morning, but the anger and betrayal had seemed too much. She really had trusted him.

The first of the articles was fairly straightforward, presenting the fact that it was the Submissive partner who was actually in control, despite the fact that the Dominant partner seemed to wield the power. The submissive should be able to stop something which was uncomfortable or too painful. That was the first of his infractions; he'd never given her a way out.

The second article was of a similar nature, but seemed to focus more on parties...Hermione was surprised people actually got together at parties to play out fantasies, and wondered if he would have wanted to do that? Would he have taken her somewhere and whipped her in front of other people? She shuddered as she read, realizing how much power she'd given him, and how much power he demanded. Did he really think she wouldn't research and learn? However, she later came to the conclusion that Severus wasn't really one for parties of any sort...so maybe that was a bit out there to worry about.

However, after several more articles, she reached one that was very, very different. She read with a mixture of fascination and horror as one lady described her relationship...and there weren't any safewords...there wasn't a way out. He not only controlled their sexual encounters, but micro-managed everything in her life, and she liked it! Hermione shook her head, unable to fathom that sort of thing...whippings for not doing the laundry on time, or for not asking permission to make a phone call, or not performing the required amount of exercise? She'd even had to ask permission to write the article. Unthinkable...

Later that evening, nearly time for bed, Hermione still sat on her couch, her room door still closed. She hadn't heard from Severus at all, and wondered if she should go talk to him, at least. Words from her mother came back to her,

"Never go to bed angry...always work out whatever it is before you go to sleep, no matter how late it is. If you allow an argument to fester in silence, it will always get worse with time..."

"If you have a disagreement, never make accusations...you have to understand his position, just as you try to make your position understood. If you fight in anger, it will only drive a wedge between you, and then it will be much harder to fix..."

She'd forgotten completely about that advice and had gone into the argument making accusations and demands, not even listening to what he had to say, nor trying to understand him.

The problem was, his position was so uncompromising, and so incomprehensible to her. She couldn't fathom why he had to be in complete control. She had no idea of why he enjoyed inflicting pain. She had no way to see his point of view. Hermione thought back to those times she had caused others pain...she hadn't enjoyed it out of pleasure, she'd enjoyed it out of a sense of justice and revenge. Rita Skeeter had deserved to be locked up in that jar for a summer. It was a justified action on her part, and not done for pleasure, but for a purpose. Delores Umbridge deserved what she got at the hands of the Centaurs, that evil, cruel, bigoted...well, she got what was coming to her, and Hermione had felt a sense of satisfaction in giving it to her...that surge of power that came with wielding justice...

Hermione sat up, wondering if she'd just come across something. She had enjoyed other's pain before, after all. Just not in a sexual way...but still, it wasn't the same with Severus. He didn't hurt her for any kind of justice...at least, she didn't think so...she couldn't imagine it was any kind of revenge for the various infractions she'd done over the years of her school career. He hurt her simply for his pleasure, and that she didn't understand. She couldn't imagine hurting a friend or someone who was supposed to be close out of pleasure...that would be terrible. And he didn't seem to dislike her either...maybe at their first meeting he had shown dislike, but now, she was sure that he at least had some interest in her.

Hermione looked over to the door of her room, wondering if Severus was out there, wondering if she should go and try to talk to him. She didn't want to give in though...if she went out there now, she would seem weak. But what was the alternative?

Her mother's advice may have been good for a conventional marriage, but Hermione decided that her mother couldn't understand this situation. It was totally different. She would wait...maybe he would be easier to deal with after a few days.

First, she decided to take a shower. Making sure the bathroom was empty; she quickly scrubbed herself and her hair, but stopped as she picked up her razor from its shelf. If he was going to ignore her, then she thought it only fair that she take a break from shaving, if only for a few days. Besides, shaving her pubes took more time than it should, and it would serve him right to have to deal with stubble. She knew they'd have to sleep together because of the coitus clause, but she didn't have to do any more than that. He liked her shaved, so she decided not to. Back in her room, she smiled, realizing she could take this opportunity to wear her pajamas...if Severus thought he was punishing her by giving her a bed and privacy, he was wrong. Feeling a bit giddy, she pulled her warm, flannel pajamas out of the drawer in which they had sat, unused, since her wedding night. Once she'd pulled them on, she got into bed, and closed her eyes, ready to go to sleep.

*****

Severus had heard the shower start, and, though he'd been tempted, he didn't enter the bathroom. She needed time to stew, and she would have it. After his own shower, he went to bed. He lay there for a long time, turning over, trying to find a comfortable position. Time drew on as he tossed and turned. Finally, he grabbed a pillow from Hermione's side and held it to his chest, just as he'd held her over the last few months.

A while later, frustrated, he sat up. He couldn't sleep. He wondered momentarily if Hermione was having the same difficulties. However, he was a Potions Master, there was no reason he shouldn't sleep just fine. He got out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe and quickly exited his quarters to the private entrance to his lab. Finding the sleeping draught, he swallowed it and went back to bed, falling quickly into sleep.

*****

Hermione turned over again, and adjusted her pillow. It had been two hours and she still couldn't sleep. Her pajamas, at one time comfortable, seemed to twist and bunch around her. Frustrated, she jumped out of bed and pulled them off, flinging them to the floor and then getting back between the sheets, naked. That was a little better. She settled on her side and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

Fifteen minutes later, she tossed onto her back and sighed deeply. Something was missing, and she knew what it was. Every night for just over two months, she'd gone to sleep with Severus's arms wrapped around her, his breath on her neck, his hand often cupping a breast as he slept. His chest was always warm against her back, and she had enjoyed the feeling of his body against hers. Usually, she also had a nice, tingly, post-coital glow to help lull her to sleep. But, she wasn't going to let it bother her...she'd slept alone just fine for eighteen years, she could do so again.

*****

At breakfast the next morning, Severus looked across the table where Hermione sat, pointedly ignoring him. Her face was puffy and her eyes had dark rings under them...she hadn't slept well at all last night. McGonagall had glanced at her, concerned, and then turned back to give him a questioning look, but he'd ignored her. He finished eating just as Hermione excused herself from the table, and rose from his place and followed her out of the Great Hall.

"Hermione," he called, noting the way she stiffened and then turned to him, trying to place a mask of indifference on her face, but failing.

"What?" she asked tersely.

"I was wondering if you might want to assist me in brewing some potions today," he said.

Hermione looked puzzled, and frowned at him, wondering why he would ask her this. "I have other things to work on today, Severus," she finally answered stiffly.

"Very well. The students will return tomorrow, as you know. When Draco is back, I don't want you in the halls alone; don't forget that he is dangerous."

"I won't," she answered. She paused; she had been planning on heading to her room, but didn't want to walk with Severus now. So, she changed her mind. Hagrid had left early from breakfast to go take care of some of his magical creatures early from breakfast, and she decided to go outside and see what he was up to. With a curt, "I'm going to see how Hagrid is doing," she turned and walked back across the entrance hall, and outside.

Severus chuckled at her. He'd noticed as she opened the door, how she had cringed at the cold. She wasn't dressed for it. Hagrid wouldn't let her freeze, and she had enough sense to seek a warm place soon enough, before she ended up with frostbite. It would have been a good opportunity to tease her as they brewed together, but he would find other opportunities for that in the near enough future. And so, he turned and went back to the dungeons. Hermione was going to be stubborn, that was expected. It would only make her eventual surrender that much more pleasing.

*****

Hermione sat beside Harry in Potions class Monday morning, pointedly examining her Potions text, rather than watching Severus at the front of the classroom.

"While you dunderheads were having a leisure vacation, I was bound to the task of grading some truly abysmal essays. How most of you lot managed to make it this far into NEWT's level is a mystery to me," he said, glaring at each of the students in turn. He then began stalking between the desks, handing out the essays.

Hermione continued to act as if she were busy as Severus stood in front of her desk, having just handed Harry's essay to him. He held the stack of parchments in front of her, and she ignored him, waiting for him to drop it on her desk.

"Madam Snape," he hissed. "If you could be bothered to keep your attention on the happenings of the class, perhaps?"

Hermione scowled up at him, angry at the scattered giggles from a few of the Slytherins. He still held the essay out for her, and so she reached for it, knowing he would only make a bigger scene if she refused to cooperate. As she did, he used the cover of the parchments to stroke his fingers along her hand, his thin lips quirked up at her. She pulled the parchments away, pretending she hadn't felt anything. Looking down at her essay, she saw '110 %' scratched across the top.

Tuesday, she still ignored him, and, when she returned to her room early that day, instead of going to Gryffindor Tower, she wondered if she should break the silence and go talk to him. However, she decided she couldn't seem like she was giving in so soon. Still, she hated not talking to him. She lay back on her bed, staring up at the white canopy as she thought. Did it really have to be such a big issue? And why did feeling shut away from him bother her so much? She didn't want to care, or worry. Had it really been that bad before, though? She really had enjoyed being with him...and most of the time; he didn't even pull out the paddles or ropes or other accoutrements. He still gave her directions, but, really, maybe it hadn't been all that bad?

But on the other hand, she didn't want to feel like she was being walked on. He always told her what to do...in class she had no choice, unless she wanted a detention or something...she had to wonder how that would go...detention with her husband. Maybe he'd spank her instead of making her scrub cauldrons, wandless? She laughed, but she decided it would be best not to do something to get detention, especially from Severus; that would just be embarrassing. There wasn't any need to give the Slytherins fuel for their taunts, and that would certainly be fuel.

Hermione glanced over to the clock; it was just after four...dinner would be in an hour. She decided for an early bath...she'd been arranging her shower times to avoid Severus, as well. She went to the bathroom and ran a bath, deciding she wanted to relax for a change, instead of showering. She frowned at her prickly legs once she was in the tub...maybe prickly legs weren't the best protest piece; it wasn't like he was going to notice anyway.

*****

Severus returned to his quarters. His last class of dunderheads was through. Normally, he would prowl the halls, looking for students to relieve of house points, but today, he wanted to relax in a bath. His nerves were fraught, and he'd had to take a sleeping potion every night since they'd returned to Hogwarts. Once in his room, he undressed hastily, and then opened the door to the bathroom.

Hermione spun around in the bath when the door opened, and saw Severus there, naked. She closed her eyes and turned back around, pulling her knees up and preparing to stand. So it had been a short bath.

Just as she stood and began to leave the tub, Severus spoke. "No need to leave, Hermione."

"I'm done," she said.

"Wouldn't you like for me to wash your back?" he offered, stepping into the tub behind her. He reached forward, skimming his fingertips down her dripping back. She shivered, taking in a deep breath as he did. "Or maybe, you'd like something more?"

"No, I'm done," she said firmly and swiftly stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel and entering her room before even bothering to dry herself. She closed the door before wrapping the towel around herself. She hadn't expected him to come in...and when he did, she didn't know what to do. She closed her eyes and relived the feeling of his fingers over her back, drifting down...

Hermione groaned in frustration, realizing that the brief contact had left her thoroughly stimulated. She distracted herself in preparing for dinner, and determined to spend the rest of the evening in Gryffindor Tower.

*****

Severus scowled at the door after it slammed closed. That hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped.

He eased down into the water, which was still quite warm. Apparently, Hermione hadn't been in the bath for very long. He wished she had stayed, talked, something. But, it had only been four days...Hermione's stubborn streak might take a bit longer than four days to wear down. His anger had abated over the last four days, however. He had brewed up a fresh supply of sleeping potion, but hoped he wouldn't have to keep using it much longer. Odd, how quickly he had become accustomed to Hermione's presence in his bed. He wanted her, and he'd have her again that Friday, but not in the way he wanted to. It wouldn't be in the way she wanted, either. She was going to have to learn that he would not compromise. He'd already compromised quite a lot with her. He'd played a blasted, bloody, board game for her. He devoted time to ensure her safety, when he should be free to relax and enjoy the fact that the Dark Lord was gone for good. No...he wouldn't compromise.

*****

Lucius Malfoy looked through the picture album again, memorizing names. There were many of him, and a thin woman who had hair of the same color. 'Narcissa' the label on the picture said. There were also pictures of his son, from the time he was a baby, on up through a picture of him with other boys in green and silver robes, all holding sleek broomsticks. 'Slytherin Quidditch Team' the label said. He frowned again, and turned back to the picture at the front. It was of himself, many years ago. He was smiling, and had his arm thrown over the shoulder of a young man next to him who had black hair, a long nose, and deep-set black eyes, and who was scowling. Looking down at the label, he read 'Severus Snape: The Traitor'.

*****

Wednesday, owls began arriving from the letters to the other Muggle-born brides who'd been forced into marriage. She read them over; finally glad to have something productive and meaningful to take her mind off of her issues. The responses were mostly brief notes saying they would make it out. However, one letter in particular was encouraging. It was from a Treva Bulstrode (Hermione wondered if there were any relation to Millicent Bulstrode). She'd had training at a Muggle university as a counselor, and offered to help out where she could. Relieved, Hermione wrote back, telling her she would love some help.

Hermione did her best to ignore the door, which seemed to be calling to her. She wanted to talk to him, straighten out the problem, and get on with things. Instead, she pushed herself into schoolwork, and spending time with Harry, Ron, and Ginny in Gryffindor Tower. If they noticed her spending more time with them, they didn't say anything.

By Friday, she had received fifty-eight responses out of the hundred fifty letters she sent. She informed the Headmaster, just after the weekly meeting with prefects, and he told her he would arrange for the meeting room in Hogsmeade for the following Saturday. And so, Hermione made another batch of form letters, informing all one- hundred thirty-three (three more weddings had been performed in the week since she'd sent the original letters), Muggle-born brides of the time and place of the meeting, hoping that they could make it. She wasn't sure how to go about it, and was starting to wonder if she'd gotten in over her head. There could be some serious issues to deal with here...but she figured having a support group of people all dealing with a similar situation would be good.

When she entered her room after classes that day, she found another note on her bed.

Hermione,

As you are probably aware, we are still required to have intercourse once a week. I will come to see you tonight, or you may join me in the living room for a drink before we get on to business."

How like him, she thought. She could just sit and wait, catch up on her homework, and do other things. But, she wasn't sorted into Gryffindor for nothing.

Determined, she rose and strode to the door separating her room from the rest of his quarters. She placed her hand on the knob, going over what she would say, and turned. The living room was lit with a few candles and the light from the hearth glowing warmly, and casting long, dancing shadows. She saw him, sitting in his fireside chair, sipping a drink. She left her door open, and slowly walked around the couch.

*****

For Severus, the week passed slowly. He allowed her to ignore him, and let her stew. He ignored her in class, and let her think he didn't keep track of her whereabouts. However, he always knew when she came back from Gryffindor Tower in the evenings, and he always knew when she was in her room. The week also allowed him to cool his anger, somewhat. He had acted in anger when he put the bed in her room. His temper was his weak point, and he usually did his best to exercise control over that aspect of himself. He'd come to realize he wanted her in his bed more than he'd thought previously. Still, he wasn't going to give in. He couldn't now.

He'd left a note on her bed that afternoon, knowing she'd find it when she got back. The weekly coitus requirements would work to his advantage for more than one reason. He hoped that after a week, she would be ready to talk about things sensibly. He felt finally able to talk sensibly, as well. He planned to get her drunk enough that she would speak freely...she'd spent too long bottling her feelings up around him, trying to put on airs that she was fine, and that marriage wasn't bothering her. In some ways, she was fine, but he'd read through her articles during one of his free periods while she was in class, and so better understood why she had reacted so strongly. He supposed reading about people who died while under the attentions of a professional dominatrix would scare her. And then, he'd come across a few truly disgusting things ...no wonder she'd been so upset. The things some people do...he shuddered, trying not to think about it.

If she didn't come out to see him, then he would go to her later. He hoped she would come to him, though. He was rather glad, then, when he heard the door click open and saw her walk into the living room. Just like any Gryffindor, she'd girded herself for battle as blatantly as could be possible.

"Good evening, Hermione. I wondered how long you would pout in your room. Would you care for a drink? Your father's gift is nice, but, if you'd prefer something milder, there is wine and sherry," he offered.

"No, thank you," Hermione said stiffly. "I was going to see if you might be ready to compromise on certain things."

"Certain things..." he drawled thoughtfully. "Which 'certain things', Hermione?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

"If you are incapable of saying it aloud, then perhaps it is you who are unable to see the situation for what it is." He stood and walked to her, noting how she steeled herself, standing uncomfortably before him. Such a sudden change in only a week, he mused. She had been smiling and laughing around him before, even going so far as to flirt on occasion. He said nothing as he stood before her and reached out a hand, running it up her arm to her shoulder, and then back down her back, where he rested his hand on her waist. "Would you prefer to take care of our marital obligations in here, or in your room?" he asked. "We won't be going into my room until you've decided to end this silliness."

"It's not 'silliness'," Hermione insisted, trying to ignore how good his hand felt, rubbing in small circles on her hip.

"It most certainly is," he murmured, leaning forward to breathe her scent at the base of her throat. He followed that by nipping a line up the prominent muscle of her neck towards her ear, satisfied when she swayed slightly. He saw her catch her hand, which had gone up to grab his shoulder, by fisting it mid-air and returning it to her side. "You want me," he said.

"Severus...why can't we just talk about this?" Hermione managed to ask. "I mean, you've been pretty reasonable about most other stuff..." she was trying not to be distracted by his hands, and mouth, which was now nipping a line just around her collar.

"I'm not being unreasonable...I expect nothing more than what I informed you of well before you had to make a decision," he said lowly as he began unbuttoning her shirt, crouching before her.

"Then why bother giving me my own bed? You could just chain me to yours," she said, exasperated.

Severus stopped his progress and looked up at her, piercing her with her gaze. "Yes, I could," he admitted. "But, I don't want for there to ever be any further misunderstandings...I'm giving you time to see the error of your judgment."

"And why is it always me that's wrong?" Hermione asked, stepping back out of his reach. "I just don't see why we can't do it like normal people."

"I see," he muttered, rising to his full height. "And what, in your vast experience, is normal?"

"That's uncalled for," Hermione said back, in a voice, which was much calmer than what she felt.

"And accusing me of falsehood was not?" he asked. They stood a moment glaring at one another before Severus spoke again. "I won't continue this discussion if you're going to act like this. We have to complete the requirements of the coitus clause tonight, if you wish to make this a pleasant undertaking it would be appreciated."

"Let's just get this over with," Hermione hissed back, not sure where the venom she felt was coming from.

"Very well," Severus replied. He reached out, grabbing her by both shoulders and spun her around, swiftly positioning her over the arm of the couch. He began moving her clothing out of the way, and then his own, only enough to complete the deed. Hermione remained stiff and unresponsive, her shoulders held stiffly, but he knew she'd wanted more, her body was more than ready for him when he plunged into her.

When he finished several moments later, Hermione stood upright, and walked back to her room, not even glancing back in his direction.

*****

The week following the less-than-enthusiastic encounter was a long one for Hermione. She avoided Severus, even taking advantage of the Prefects bathroom from time to time so as not to encounter him. She spent most of her time in Gryffindor Tower. Not once did she venture into the living room with Severus, where only a month before she had felt perfectly at ease sitting back on the couch with a book.

Each night, she got back to her room late, doubly glad that Harry and Ron had been given passes to escort her. However, she sensed they were becoming tired of the obligation. They hadn't said anything directly, but Ron had wondered aloud at one point if Snape did his rounds around curfew time, if he would be able to drop by Gryffindor Tower in the process.

Thursday evening, Hermione climbed into bed after studying and working on several assignments for a while after she'd returned to her room. She was tired enough that she hoped sleep would come quickly. It took a long time to fall asleep, and when she finally did, she awakened not long after, trying to remember snatches of a troubling dream, which was quickly fading.

*****

Severus looked at the potion in the phial...he didn't want to have to take it, but it would be the best way for her to learn. This particular potion was often used as a prank, slipped into the drink of young men by practical joking friends before a special event with a significant other. The results proved embarrassing for the unfortunate brunt of the joke. However, he would have no need for embarrassment at this; he was doing it for a purpose. It was Friday evening; time to fulfill the requirements of the coitus clause. He drank the potion, and then knocked on her door. She sullenly called for him to enter, and he did.

*****

The walk to Hogsmeade for the first meeting of the Muggle-born witches affected by the law was awkward, as Severus had insisted on accompanying her to keep her safe. Hermione had protested before they left that she didn't need him to come with her. He'd countered that, telling her that since it was his job to protect her; he wasn't going to leave her on her own, as it was also a Hogsmeade weekend, and Draco could possibly take this opportunity to hurt her.

"I will remain downstairs; you need not worry that I'll be hanging over your shoulder," he had told her in their quarters.

Their encounter the previous night had left Hermione frustrated and angry. He hadn't taken any time to make sure she enjoyed it. He'd simply teased her enough that she was well prepared for him, and then entered her, finishing in less than three strokes. She'd been surprised; he'd never had the problem she'd heard other girls complain of before. Severus had left her room without a word afterwards. Her surprise quickly turned to resentment as she realized he'd done it on purpose.

Her determination to simply wait him out was ebbing. She tried to push away thoughts of the previous evening as they walked through the snow. It was a beautiful day, and she wanted to enjoy it. While cold, the sun was shining, and the landscape was a beautiful study of glistening surfaces, soft whiteness covering the hills, and icicles hanging from the trees along the path, and snow piling in the crooks of branches, and clustering in fluffy tufts over the fir trees.

Most of the students were already in Hogsmeade. Hermione had needed to prepare for the meeting. In the week since she sent out the announcement of the meeting, she had received fifty-eight responses from women who would be able to make it. She wondered about the others who hadn't responded at all. However, Professor Dumbledore had turned those names over to another within the Order who would investigate them. If they were in an abusive situation and couldn't respond, they would do what they could to take action. Dumbledore had assured her she didn't need to worry about it, that she was busy enough between her Head Girl duties, schoolwork, and organizing the support group for those Muggle-born brides who could attend.

She hoped the room would be large enough...if fifty-eight people would be a lot.

They reached The Three Broomsticks quickly enough, and Hermione and Severus entered the pub. It was busy, with wizards and witches crowded around tables and along the bar. "I'll wait here for you," Severus announced, leaving her side and picking a table near the door where he could observe those who arrived. He pulled a stack of papers from his satchel...more grading.

Hermione saw Rosmerta serving a group of wizards and started across the crowded pub. Rosmerta sighted her, and called out, "It's all set up for you, go on upstairs." Hermione headed for the stairs; she hadn't been in the upstairs meeting room of the pub before, and she hoped it would be enough. When she arrived, she was sure magic must have been used to expand it. There was a long table of drinks and refreshments along one wall, and there were comfortable chairs arranged in an oval...quite a lot of chairs, Hermione noted nervously. She had taken on this responsibility and would have to speak in front of them all.

She'd prepared a statement of purpose for the group, and hoped that it would be adequate. Treva had written her back and said she would arrive early to talk to her before the meeting and give some suggestions. She tried to imagine...some of the people she would be speaking to would have had no choice in their partner...not that she'd had much choice, but, still, she'd had a choice.

She took a look at the table of refreshments; Dumbledore had thought of everything, it seemed. She strolled around the room a few times...the meeting time had been announced to begin an in an hour; Hermione wanted to be early to greet people as they arrived. And so, she took a seat, and pulled out her statement, thinking that reading it over a few more times would ease her nervousness.

After about twenty minutes, a tall lady with long brown hair, and an air of confidence walked in. She smiled warmly at Hermione. "You must be Hermione Snape; I'm Treva Bulstrode, formerly McGoodwin. Both my parents are psychologists. If I hadn't been a witch, I probably would have gone into psychology as well, but I did go ahead and go to Muggle University after leaving Hogwarts. I don't have current credentials to practice in the Muggle world, but I have had some training in running support groups."

"That's great, I really could use some help, Treva. I'm so glad you offered to help."

"I've wanted to do something, and I've seen the fliers around Diagon Alley. When I got your letter, I knew this was the place for me to do what I can to help out. So, you've had to get married as well, and you're still in school, right?" Treva asked, coming to sit beside Hermione, crossing her long legs.

"Yes, I'll be graduating this spring."

"So, Snape...as in Professor Severus Snape?" Treva asked, with guarded curiosity.

"Yes...I had another offer originally, which would have been a truly horrible situation, and Severus was kind enough to give me another option."

"I see...well, I hope things are going well with that then," she answered distractedly, before returning her attention to Hermione. "I'm in a similar arrangement, actually. My husband, Barius Bulstrode, was a friend of mine when we went to Hogwarts. I believe he has a cousin currently attending Hogwarts."

"Oh...yes, Millicent Bulstrode?"

"Yes, that would be her. But, as I was saying, I had an offer...can't really call it an offer, more of a requirement... for marriage, at first, to some man who was old enough to be my great-grandfather." Treva shuddered slightly, and Hermione smiled at her exaggerated expression of disgust. "So, I got back in touch with Barius, and he agreed to help me out. It hasn't been too bad for me, all things considered. I hadn't planned on getting married, so soon. We've both seen the fliers that have been put up in Diagon Alley, and I hope this ends soon. From what I've heard, most pure-bloods aren't too happy with this new law, either. But, whatever is happening, I would like to help out where I can. May I ask what you had planned for today?"

"Well, I have this," Hermione said, holding her prepared statement out.

Treva took it, and sat in the chair beside Hermione, skimming the statement. "This is a good start," she offered after a moment. "Would you mind if I suggest a few things?"

"I would love a few suggestions, actually." Hermione was more than relieved. She would have forged ahead on her own, but, now, she felt much better knowing someone would be there to help.

"Okay, I would start out by..."

Hermione listened to Treva for the next half hour as she detailed the typical workings of a support group. First, she learned that a support group should not be too large, and so the first order of business should be to divide the large group into smaller groups who's situations were most similar. Today the best way to begin would be to do brief introductions, and then determine what range of situations was present. The group could be divided into anywhere from four to eight sub-groups from that point, each group arranging their meeting times independently. The main issues they could focus on, to start, would be forced marriage, and what the husbands of the forced partners were like. Next, would be a focus on the family of the Muggle-born bride.

By the time women began arriving, Hermione was much more at ease. She mingled with the group, exchanging introductions and seeing a few familiar faces. She saw the girl she'd met in the Bridal Dress shop, Sarah Pearson, and she went over.

"Sarah, hi, how have you been?"

"Oh, hello, Hermione. Well, not too bad, actually. Alex...you remember, Alexander Brudnell, well, we're getting along pretty well. He didn't really understand why I wanted to come here tonight, though. How has it been with you and Professor Snape?"

"Not bad...he came with me to visit my parents over the Christmas holiday; he's not always like he is in class."

"That's good...kind of hard to imagine...I'm sorry, just, he made me so nervous in class. I saw him downstairs when I came in..." Sarah looked questioningly at Hermione. Hermione felt odd, knowing Sarah would think Severus was keeping after her.

"My situation is a little complicated...there's still someone who's upset over who I chose."

"I remember the duel that day, in Diagon Alley, between Professor Snape and Lucius Malfoy...is he still...?"

"Actually, Severus is worried about Draco, so he's keeping an eye out to make sure I'm safe."

"Oh, ok...well, that's good. I would imagine that would make you feel safer."

"Yes, it does. Well, it looks like everyone is here and it's time to start..." she observed, looking around the room. It was five past three, and she should have called the meeting to order at three.

Hermione found a seat, and stood before it, and finally called the meeting to order. When she sat, with over fifty pairs of eyes watching her, she felt uncomfortable, realizing she was the youngest there, and wondering if others would resent someone so much younger running the meeting. She began speaking. "Hi...I'm glad you could all come today. We're all in a similar situation, having been forced to marry by the Ministry of Magic; and this support group is to help everyone adjust to the situation, and to help with any problems anyone might be having. So...if we can begin with introductions and a basic overview...I'll start. I'm Hermione Snape, and I got married nearly three months ago. I had three offers, and was able to choose among the three. I'm still attending Hogwarts, and will be graduating this spring." She looked to her left, where another young woman sat. Hermione recognized her as someone who had been a seventh-year Gryffindor during her first year.

"I'm Trisha Green...erm, I mean, Wood. I had one offer initially...from some guy old enough to be my great-grandfather, and then my friend, Oliver Wood, who is a pure-blood, was able to help me out." Hermione was surprised; she didn't know what had happened to Oliver Wood after graduation.

The introductions continued...out of the first thirty, twenty-three all mentioned a man old enough to be their great-grandfather. Finally, someone asked, "Was that Harold Geiger?" and the answer was affirmative. It was revealed that Harold Geiger had petitioned nearly every woman there. Fortunately, everyone had a friend or acquaintance of pure-blood status, or at least another offer from a more appealing stranger, which had been able to help them out of that possibility.

Introductions had gone three quarters of the way around the circle, when a small, mousy-looking young woman stood; she seemed familiar to Hermione...who placed her after a moment as someone who had been at Hogwarts in Hufflepuff, but Hermione couldn't remember how many years ahead she had been. She cleared her throat and spoke nervously. "I'm...um...Sally Geiger...I didn't have any pure-blood friends..." she broke off, glancing around nervously. She earned many looks of sympathy, while others looked away, embarrassed that they had been discussing her husband in rather unkind terms only moments before. "Well...at least...at least he hasn't been terrible to me..." she trailed off, looking down at her hands.

Hermione didn't know what to say; she knew that something should be said. Fortunately, Treva spoke up. "It's all right, Sally. We're here to support each other. I am confident in saying no one here is in a marriage completely of their choosing. Even those of us who had some degree of choice were still mandated. You're not alone in your situation."

After that, the meeting took on a more somber feel. When introductions were finished, Hermione passed around the questionnaires that Treva had helped her come up with. She had also volunteered to help sort and categorize the questionnaires to form smaller groups. After the questionnaires had been returned, everyone was asked how things were going, and, for the most part, everyone seemed to be doing fairly well. Hermione was surprised, but, after the meeting broke up, and everyone had left, Treva stayed to talk with her.

"I'm really surprised everyone seems to be doing so well," Hermione observed.

"Don't be so quick to think that. They may say they're doing well, and, if they were able to get here, it's probably not too terrible, but, how many letters did you send out?"

"A hundred fifty-three..." Hermione answered, realization dawning.

"And there were only about sixty here today. That's nearly a hundred who didn't come, for whatever reason."

"Professor Dumbledore said he has someone investigating the others..."

"Which is good. Just keep in mind that what we saw today is the best of these marriages. And even then, it's not great. That one girl, Sally...and several others, I could tell, are having bigger problems than they've let on," Treva said, giving Hermione a significant look. "Most people will want to say things are better than what they are."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, I see what you're saying. Thanks. I appreciate your help with this... we should sort these now; I can get the letters written telling people about who they're sharing their group with when I get back to Hogwarts this evening."

"I'm not busy, and I know Professor Snape is waiting downstairs for you. If it's not an imposition, I can walk back with you to Hogwarts, and we can go over it there. I'd also like to talk to Professor Dumbledore, if he's available while I'm there."

"That would be good, yes. Let's go, then," Hermione said, rising and grabbing her book bag, where she stuffed the questionnaires. Treva followed her down the stairs and up to Severus's table.

"Are you ready to go, then?" Severus asked when he saw her approach.

"Yes. This is Treva Bulstrode, she's going to be helping me with the support group," Hermione said.

Severus glanced behind Hermione, eyebrows rising. "Ahh, yes, formerly Miss McGoodwin; Ravenclaw, class of '85, finished with 'acceptable' in Potions. Best of luck to you in sorting out this mess the Ministry has inflicted on the population."

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Treva responded with an eyebrow raised at him. Hermione glanced between the two, feeling as if she was missing something.

"Well, Treva will be coming back to Hogwarts with me so we can go over some things. We can go ahead and walk back if you'd like to stay a while longer."

"Will she?" Severus asked in a monotone, giving her a suspicious glance. "I am more than ready to return as well, Hermione. We can go now," he said, rising from his place and picking up his satchel, which he shrank and placed in a pocket. He rose from the table and opened the door, standing aside to allow Hermione and Treva to exit before him.

Treva and Hermione talked on the way back, covering school subjects before moving on to plans for repealing the Marriage Law. Hermione filled her in on what was being done already; and Treva seemed eager to join in the fight. Severus remained silent as they walked into Hogwarts and down to the dungeons. When Hermione started to invite Treva into her room, Severus finally spoke.

"It is nearly time for dinner. Madam Bulstrode, would you care to join us?"

Hermione frowned at him, wondering where this hospitality to a former student was coming from.

"If you're sure it's no imposition, Professor Snape."

"Not at all," Severus replied, opening the door to their quarters. The three settled in the living room, Hermione and Treva on the couch. Severus Flooed the kitchens, and ordered a dinner for three to be delivered. As it was supper suppertime anyway, a tray was quickly delivered, and the three began eating. Hermione pulled out the questionnaires, and began discussing them with Treva. Severus remained silent, but watchful. Hermione thought he would leave when dinner was finished, but he remained, and moved to his desk, where he found something to work on. Hermione was aware of his scrutiny as she and Treva planned for the division of the groups.

"I think this is as far as we can get tonight. I'm going to contact my parents, they know about the law, and I'll see if they might be willing to offer their services on a pro bono basis for this. And," Treva said, looking at the clock on the mantle, "I think it may be a bit late to see the Headmaster now."

"I will Floo him for you, Madam Bulstrode," Severus said, rising from behind his desk and approaching the fireplace. Hermione was a bit shocked at his affability with her guest. Treva seemed not to be surprised, however.

She and Hermione said their goodbyes, and arranged to meet the Sunday after next. Severus informed her that the Headmaster was able to meet with her. Treva politely refused his offer to accompany her to his office, and bade them goodbye. When she'd left, Severus returned to his desk and grading, seeming to ignore Hermione.

"What was that about?" she asked, after a moment.

Severus looked up, regarding her for a moment before explaining. "I am merely trying to ensure that a person who seemed capable of assisting you in this endeavor would feel welcome." When she frowned at him, he continued. "There is more at stake here than you, Hermione. If you're going to protest my involving myself in your activities too much, consider that."

He had a point, so Hermione didn't bother trying to argue. She watched him for several moments as he worked, wondering if she should take the opportunity to say something, do something. However, despite the niggling voice in the back of her head, which sounded awfully like her mother, she turned and went back to her room. She would let him stew; let him wonder. He was sure to come to her soon enough. After a while, he would see the advantage in compromise. She decided it would be best to get ready for bed.

*****

Hermione stood in a drizzle- soaked meadow, feeling lost. She found a shovel in her hand, and had the urge to dig; and so she did. It was a tiring process, but the shovel seemed light enough, and, soon, she was standing in a hole, waist deep, still digging.

It began to rain, and each shovel-full of dirt she brought out of the hole caused a slurping sound in the mud, which enveloped her feet and came to her ankles. Still, she dug. After some time, she knew not how long, the hole was above her head, yet, still, she dug, flinging great clods of mud out of the hole as the rain fell down around her.

After what seemed like hours, she realized she was trapped. She looked up at the cloudy sky, pushing her rain-drenched hair back from her face, and then resumed digging. Worms and grubs wriggled out of the earth around her and she moved still deeper.

Looking up again, she saw a black shape against the grey clouds. He pushed the hood of his cloak back, and she saw it was Severus. He said nothing, but simply watched her. She turned back to the ground and continued digging, working her way deeper into the pit. She started to panic, and looked up, where Severus was still watching, and she saw him pull something out from under his cloak. It was a rope, and he lowered it to her. He had come to help her. She reached out to grasp the thick rope, but the instant she touched her hands to it, it turned into a long snake, hissing at her.

Hermione recoiled, frightened, and looked back up, her glare accusing him of betrayal.

"The snake won't bite, Hermione," he called. "Take it, and you can come out."

She backed away until she met the muddy earth behind her. She couldn't do it, and so, she did the only thing available. Taking the shovel in hand once more, she dug.