2

Chapter 2

It was early morning when Severus finally Apparated to the front walk of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He had spent the majority of the evening thinking about what he would say or do to the chi...woman. Well, in truth, he had spent more time drinking than thinking.

Severus could not decipher the jumbled mess of feelings that were stirring deep beneath his many layers; those layers were the protective barriers that had been there for as long as he could remember. He remembered them forming at such a young age. Each time his father yelled, forcing his mother to cower, the barrier grew. For every taunt he endured throughout school and for every bout of Crucio he tolerated from the Dark Lord, another stratum was placed. The layers of protection, like the bricks of a wall, protected him from the one thing that was most likely to destroy him...his emotions.

All Severus Snape knew for certain was that he could not allow his wife to marry another man. She belonged to him. Pounding on the front door, he impatiently waited for entry to the former Order of the Phoenix headquarters. "Potter," he sneered with venom when the door was opened to reveal a disheveled looking young man with penetrating green eyes.

"Snape, what the bloody hell are you doing here at seven o'clock in the morning?" Harry spat in return.

"I want to speak with my...erm, Hermione," Severus answered. He then added a very firm, "Now."

"She doesn't want to talk to you, Snape," said Harry protectively while attempting to bar the Potions professor from the house.

Severus pushed himself past the berk. "Excuse me if I do not take your word for it, Potter."

Knowing that he could not win against the insistent man, a disgruntled Harry conceded and stepped back while glaring at him. "Stay here. I'll go find her."

Severus watched as the young man darted up the staircase. Several minutes passed. He had a strong urge to accidentally-on-purpose kick the troll umbrella stand just to awaken Mrs. Black's portrait to ease his frustrations. Before he could carry through with that plan, he spied back up the stairs to see a tired and pale looking young woman descend towards him, bushy hair limply moving with each step. He heard Potter call protectively to her, "Hermione, call me if you need anything." Then he eyed Snape closely before threatening him. "If you do anything to her, Snape, you won't be able to walk straight for a week."

Severus rolled his eyes at the young wizard's display of chivalry and fixed his gaze on the young woman walking towards him.

"Severus," she greeted simply as she entered the foyer.

"Hermione," he replied whilst nodding curtly to her and gesturing her towards the library.

She led the way to the musty room and turned to face him as he entered the room after her. "Why are you here?" she asked without preamble.

Severus looked at her intently. He had readied himself to yell at her for trying to make a fool of him, but the words would not come forth. "You do not look well, Hermione," he said calmly.

She narrowed her gaze upon him and folded her arms in front of her chest. "That is not what you came here to say," she replied. "I repeat. Why are you here?"

Severus felt as if he was in a trance. The woman before him was not the same woman that left his life less than two months prior. She was sickly looking, gaunt, and pale. She never had much excess weight on her to begin with, but now she looked as if she was several pounds underweight. Her hair appeared brittle, and her skin looked very dry and loose, almost as if it was hanging off of her. "Are you eating?" he asked.

Hermione was unable to keep her anger and frustration wrangled in. "Damn you! Answer my bloody question, Snape! Why are you here?"

Severus did not know what was happening. Just looking at her and hearing every word that she spoke had his barriers beginning to slip. It unsettled him like he never imagined, leading him to his only defense...anger. All too soon, he found the anger creeping to the surface to strengthen his shield. "Fine," he spat. "I came here to find out why you are getting married, Hermione."

She watched him carefully as she prepared to state her rehearsed answer. She had practiced her little speech, and she wanted to use whatever she could to deliver the deepest cut. Not that she truly expected it to hurt him! The man didn't seem to feel anything. Deep down inside, she hoped that it would make her feel better. She began to speak to him as if she were talking to a small child. "I am sure that you are not aware of this, but not everyone gets married because they are forced, Severus. Sometimes people actually get married because they love each other, and they actually want to spend the rest of their lives together. Why do you care?"

"I do not care," he said as he felt the wall that protected him barely quiver as it began to fortify. "My only concern is that you have somehow managed to showcase this affair, making me look like a fool!"

"What?" she yelled. "You look like a fool? Did you even read the article in the Daily Prophet yesterday? Rita Skeeter did nothing to make you look like a fool! The only thing that came from her poisoned quill was my humiliation!"

"I would have thought, my dear, that living with a Slytherin for twelve months would have taught you to read between the lines." He leant towards her as he emphasized the last four words to her in a near whisper.

Hermione looked at him for several seconds then shook her head as if to clear it. "Your manipulative mind games won't work on me anymore." She stepped back away from him so she could no longer feel his hot breath on her face. "This wedding has nothing to do with you. Now, if you don't mind, get out!" she stated, unwavering as she pointed to the door.

Her words reverberated through his mind and caused a rip in his many layers of defense. The fury erupted out of him like a simmering volcano. It was the only thing he could do. It was the only way he knew to fix the tear.

Severus strode forward the three steps that were separating himself from Hermione. He forcefully grabbed her upper arms and lifted her slightly off of the floor as he began to rage at her. "This has everything to do with me!" he yelled. "You are mine! Do you understand that? Mine!" The look of utter terror in her deep brown eyes caused him to jolt. He loosened his grip and attempted to force himself to calm the boiling anger.

He was so stunned by his own actions that he did not feel the hands upon him that shoved him to the floor. Shocked, he looked up to see Potter standing over him as the youngest Weasley draped a comforting arm around Hermione.

"Get the hell out of here, Snape!" the young wizard yelled. "Now!"

Severus did not remember getting to his feet and stumbling out of the house. Nor did he remember Apparating to Diagon Alley. He only remembered somehow floundering into the Leaky Cauldron and attempting to coerce Tom into serving firewhisky before the breakfast hour was over.

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Ginny draped her arm over Hermione's shoulders and guided her out of the library, as Hermione allowed the tears to stream down her face. Hermione grabbed the redhead's hand and stopped walking just as they reached the stairs to go downstairs to the kitchen. "No," she said. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Ginny nodded, changed directions, and helped her friend to the bathroom. Assisting her inside the tiny room, she gently slid Hermione to the floor. Ginny quickly conjured two facecloths, applying one to the back of Hermione's neck and began dabbing the woman's face with the other. "Are you going to be all right?"

Hermione took several deep breaths as she willed her stomach to settle itself. She leaned into Ginny's touch and replied, "I don't think I can do this."

"Yes, you can," said Ginny firmly. "Hermione Granger, you are one of the strongest women that I know, and believe me, I know some very strong women. Have you met my mother?" she asked with a smirk.

Hermione could not help but to let out a small laugh at Ginny's remark. She realized this was a mistake as her face began to tingle with beads of cold sweat and large amounts of saliva began to pool in her mouth. "Oh God," she murmured as she moved up onto her knees and leaned over the toilet.

Ginny grabbed the long tresses of bushy, brown hair and pulled them out of Hermione's face, watching her friend vomit to the point of dry heaving. When the episode of emesis ended, Ginny mopped the young woman's face with the cool cloth and summoned a glass of cold water from the kitchen.

"Better now?" asked the redhead tentatively.

Hermione slowly turned to face her friend and nodded as she took several cautious sips of water. She slumped back against the wall. "Thank you."

Ginny brushed a lock of red hair out of her face and asked, "What happened?"

"I threw up," replied Hermione.

The younger witch snorted. "You know what I mean, Hermione. What happened between you and Snape?"

Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head back against the cool wall. "I don't want to talk about it."

Ginny leaned forward and began pulling the sleeves of Hermione's robes up to examine her arms. "Did he hurt you?"

Hermione pulled away hastily as if burned by her friend's touch. "No," she answered a little too quickly. Seeing the disbelieving look in Ginny's hazel eyes, she amended, "Not really. He wasn't trying to hurt me, Gin. He just grabbed my arms."

The young witch shook her head in disgust. "He shouldn't have grabbed you at all, Hermione."

"I know," sighed the bushy-haired brunette. "Rather ironic, if you think about it. I was married to the man for twelve months, and the only time he ever touched me was when he was forced to fuck me." Tears again moistened her brown eyes. "And, even then it was with as little contact as possible," she added with an air of disgust.

Ginny sat back and watched Hermione closely, listening to her every word. Her friend had never talked about her marriage to Severus Snape. Ginny knew, like everyone else, that it was a marriage solely of convenience and safety. The Marriage Act had required copulation twice a week until the confirmed conceiving of a child by a trained nurse or Healer.

Carefully Ginny asked, "Are you sure that you are doing the right thing, Mione?" Ginny paused, then added, "Marrying Ron, I mean."

The sickly looking witch stared at the dull hardwood floor. "I don't know," she whispered.

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Less than an hour later, Hermione was up in her room. She had warded the door to prevent any unwanted visitors or well-meaning friends. Was she doing the right thing in marrying Ron? She truly wasn't sure. There were just so many things to think about, so many thoughts swirling through her mind; all of the thoughts revolved around one person...Severus Snape. Their wedding had been nothing but a farce. He hated and resented her for it; she was certain of that.

"I'm only doing this to save your bloody hide!" he had spat at her when he and Dumbledore had informed them of their plan.

"Yes, I'm quite certain that you are gaining nothing from this venture, Professor," she had hissed back at him.

Less than twenty-four hours later, she had been escorted to a small clearing near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Only Dumbledore, Hagrid, and McGonagall had been present. Well, aside from the endearing Professor Snape, of course. The remainder of the ceremony had been a blur with only a few continual thoughts coming forth.

Why couldn't this have been a few months later so that Ron was eligible? Oh, I don't want to know what happens after this. The Ministry is going to pay for this ruddy law!

It had all seemed ridiculous and hopeless.

Hermione hated the Death Eaters that had been stalking her and causing her to do such a thing. She hated the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot for passing such a ludicrous law. She'd blamed Professor Dumbledore for his crazy schemes. She'd blamed Professor Snape for allowing himself to be coerced by Dumbledore. Most of all, she'd blamed herself for being selfish in not wanting to leave Great Britain unprotected and for foolishly having the childhood fantasy that 'nothing bad would ever happen to her.'

She grabbed the pillow off of her bed and screamed into it, hoping to purge some of the strain. It didn't help. Why did Snape come to see her? What did he want from her?

His words thundered through her head. You are mine! Do you understand that? Mine!

"Oh, God," she said as she buried her head in her hands. One of Snape's character flaws was his possessiveness. He was a conceited and selfish bastard; although, Hermione had never expected him to be possessive of her. He seldom paid much attention to her.

When they were first married, she continued to stay in the room that she shared with the other seventh year girls. She only had to go down to his rooms to fulfill the twice-weekly conjugal obligations, thanks to the ruddy marriage contract. However, because of the fact that she had to deal with the snickers and curious looks from Lavender and Parvati, she was almost grateful when the war came to a head, and he forced her to move into the dark dungeons permanently. That is until she deduced the obvious...she would have to share a bed with the man continually.

He wasn't abusive; that wasn't the problem. The problem was that most of the time he was so very cold and distant. For the first couple of months, Hermione had made several futile attempts to engage him in conversation. He would either ignore her or tell her that he had no desire to enter into a discussion about worthless teenage drivel and angst. The fact that I was attempting to talk to him about the latest Potions research seemed to go unnoticed, thought Hermione bitterly.

Sex had been... What exactly had sex been?

It had been merely functional, for lack of a better description. It was the same nearly every time. The only exception had been with the first time, just following their binding ceremony. The memory surfaced, despite her attempts to stifle it. Not for the first time, she wished that she had a Pensieve.

They entered his quarters via a door in his office. It was the first time that she'd ever been to his rooms. She paid little attention to anything as the butterflies roiling in her stomach were enough to keep her concentration on trying to not vomit all over the floor. Severus walked directly to the liquor cabinet in the far corner to pull out two glasses and a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. He amply filled each goblet and motioned for her to take one.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, but she obliged and walked towards the table. She downed the drink in three horrible swallows, nearly choking. It burned terribly. No wonder they call it firewhisky!

"No," he simply said. "Kissing would imply a level of intimacy that we do not have."

She was caught off guard as he quickly entered two fingers inside of her. It took all of her resolve to prevent herself from crying out. He pumped his fingers in her dry core and eventually brought his thumb up to her nub and began circling it firmly. Hermione was thankful that her body finally gave in to his crude ministrations as her moisture began to lubricate his long slender fingers. Just get this over with, she thought as a tear slid down her face.

Just as she was beginning to become used to his girth and the pain began to subside, he made a barely audible grunting sound as he spilled inside of her and immediately rolled away. He lay next to her for a few minutes, and just as quickly as it had begun, it ended when he exited the bed. As he stood up with his back to her, he said, "Next time, see to it that you are fully ready. It will save time." Just as he reached the bathroom door, he stopped again and turned around. "And, do not lie to me again."

Snape did not return to the room.

"I should've had that second glass of firewhisky," she mumbled aloud with sour remembrance. That horrid experience had set the tone for each mandatory encounter thereafter.

Was the marriage really all that bad? she wondered.

No, she answered herself in truth.

After she had moved to the dungeons, things had become surprisingly comfortable; there were moments when he actually acted like a genuine person and not just some arrogant egomaniac. Astonishingly enough, he could even be pleasant at times. When her father had died suddenly from health problems, Severus had been kind and comforting, giving her a much needed shoulder to cry on. He had listened to her rants as she fell into her new position as Madame Pince's aid in the library. Much later, during the height of the war, he protected her.

Five days a week they'd cohabited together amicably, but the looming threat of copulation ruined the other two. On those days, he'd avoided her as much as was humanly possible. In the evenings, he would always drink several glasses of liquor while she showered and fully prepared herself. It was always quick, with no satisfaction for her, and he always left the bed to shower immediately following, never returning to the room that night.

He'd never attempted to kiss her, though Hermione had began to wonder if it was because he continued to feel that there was no intimacy between them or if he was still trying to maintain distance and control.

The final confrontation between the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix had taken place at Hogwarts...just as many people had suspected that it would. It happened on 3 January 1999. The students had not yet returned from the Christmas holiday. Thanks to Severus' spying, Harry and the Order had been well prepared for the attack. Her best friend had been aware of the attack, and thus, he was able to be present to defeat Voldemort for the final time.

It was during this battle that the Dark Lord and Lucius Malfoy had discovered Severus' true loyalties. At this revelation, Malfoy had been sent out to kill her husband and nearly succeeded. Malfoy had tortured and cursed him so badly that he could barely move. Hermione had come upon the two of them. Severus was near death while Malfoy stood over him gloating that his intentions were to torture the turncoat to either insanity or death.

Hermione had been lucky; she had caught the senior Malfoy unawares and cast a well-placed Petrificus Totalus, followed by an Incarcerous, for good measure. It had been effective enough to hold the man until an Auror could remand him into custody, and it had allowed Hermione to get to Severus.

Madame Pomfrey had said that his injuries were vast and that Hermione had barely arrived in time. It had been a somewhat lengthy recovery for him. However, because of the insufferable man's stubborn nature, he had first refused to transfer to St. Mungo's, and shortly thereafter, he had refused to remain in the hospital wing. This meant that Severus was placed in Hermione's care.

In the three weeks that it took for Severus to heal, things had truly begun to change between them or so she had thought. In her opinion, they had developed a bond, a mutual understanding, and thankfully, because of his injuries, sex did not interfere with their newfound kinship. In that time, Hermione had realized that she had feelings for him, but she had not had time to decipher exactly what those feelings were. Could she actually be in love with the man? Damn! Just as I was trying to figure it all out, that bloody Ministry Post Owl had arrived! she internally cursed.

It was January 30th, and the damned bird carried a letter informing her and her husband that the Marriage Act had been rescinded. They were finally free to divorce if they so chose to.

Severus instantly became cold again. He ignored her most of that day. The next morning, he came to her with the divorce decree and insisted that she sign it. She tried to talk to him...God, it was so important that I talk to him!...but he had refused to listen to her. After many shed tears, she had reluctantly signed the decree against her better judgment and left without any fuss. In only one year's time, she had been married, fallen into unrequited love, and then divorced. Even more ironic was that the divorce papers were signed on what should have been their first anniversary.

Hermione had three options. She could go home and live with her mum, stay at Hogwarts and have to be near him, or she could inflict herself on Harry and Ron. She chose the last option, and only six weeks later she was marrying Ron.

She began to cry again at the utter mess her life had now become when she felt the ever present churning of her stomach as yet another wave of nausea suddenly overcame her.

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