Miss Granger, What Have You Done?

Thanks to JK Rowling for her generous understanding of our attempts to continue exploring her worlds and characters.

And special thanks to lifeasanamazon and junomagic who took time from their holiday weekends to read and comment so I could post quickly. Further thanks to Leigh-Anne and GinnyW for beta-work. It appears that for this chapter, it took a village!

33. MISS GRANGER, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

After performing hasty cleansing charms and pulling on her clothes, she had found Professor Snape buttoned up to the neck and Flooing the Headmaster.

And now, they were about to barge in on the old wizard in the middle of the night to her chagrin.

"No!" She tried to wrench her wrist out of her husband's grip, but any such attempt was futile.

"Bendicks Bittermints."

The gargoyle leapt aside. Even before the walls had totally revealed the staircase, he was dragging her up, taking the moving steps two at a time with no regard to her ankles or limbs as she struggled to keep up with him.

She was raw...raw from the emotional assault of loving and being loved, raw from the emotional assault of being betrayed, raw from the fear of what lay ahead.

She had tried to explain things to him in simple terms. Who would have thought words like "vow" and "sacrament" would have resulted in this?

By the time she was flung through the door of the Headmaster's office, she felt exposed.

The Headmaster rose from his desk, his head cocked in question as he looked from Professor Snape to her and back again. It was as if this were the middle of the afternoon of any normal day and not the middle of the night with him in his purple sleeping robes with a ridiculous orange sleeping cap on his head.

Hermione turned the full force of her cold fury on the man who had only minutes earlier made her feel...everything. She allowed him to see the one emotion that overwhelmed all others. Betrayal. You are betraying me. You are betraying us.

He flinched away from her look.

She lowered her eyes. She refused to look at either of the two wizards.

"Is something wrong?" Professor Dumbledore asked, and then before there could be an answer, added, "What has happened?"

"If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn't be here," Professor Snape snapped crisply. "But it has been brought to my attention," she felt his gaze slide to her but refused to meet it, "that elements have been introduced into my marriage, and thus, the situation we all find ourselves embroiled in, that come from my wildest nightmares."

"Madam Snape, perhaps you would like to sit down."

She sank into a chair and folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. Professor Snape remained standing.

"Perhaps, Severus, you should begin at the beginning."

"If only we knew where the beginning was," he responded sharply. "I can begin with what happened in the Room of Requirement."

"Ah, yes."

"But...I think it best if you direct this line of enquiry." For once the Professor's voice was raw with emotion.

And so it begins, she thought to herself.

"As I'm still at a loss," Professor Dumbledore spoke gently, "perhaps you can help me, Hermione?"

She flinched at the sound of her name from his lips. Kindly, comforting.

She gave a sharp nod, still staring at her hands.

"Professor Snape is ... distressed..." Yes, that was a good word. "Because I mentioned our vows."

"You're speaking of the marriage vows?"

"Yes. I don't even know what vows we exchanged in the wizarding ceremony, but in Anglican marriage ritual we performed... It is a sacrament, sir. It's..."

"Muggle magic," her husband spat. "Do you realize what she's done? She's bound us with some sort of Muggle magic!"

"It's not magic..." she protested fiercely.

"I know it isn't," Professor Dumbledore said. "Forgive Severus for not having the scope of experience to understand.

His voice was so sympathetic...so comforting...without realizing it, she allowed her gaze to rise to meet his, seeking some sort of absolution.

And in his intense blue eyes, she saw understanding and no condemnation, but she also saw fear. In fact, were it anyone but Albus Dumbledore, she might even suspect she saw terror.

Miss Granger, what have you done?

"Tell me what you know of Salazar Slytherin," he said, as if such a digression was normal conversation.

"He hated Muggle-borns and wanted to deprive us of magical education and abilities."

"Your opinion is not totally without grounds although some might debate whether or not he actually hated Muggle-borns," Dumbledore agreed. "But do you know why he had such a strong belief system?"

She shook her head impatiently. "Because he was a bigot? Because when he was tender and vulnerable some Muggle hurt him and he could never trust them again? I can think of many excuses, based on what I know of Slytherins today, but they are only guesses."

"At the time when Hogwarts was founded, Muggles were attempting to burn witches and wizards at the stake. I sincerely doubt Salazar was concerned about hurt feelings and mistrust, Miss...excuse me, Madam Snape."

"His justifications for his prejudices really weren't given much emphasis in Hogwarts: A History," she said in her own defense.

"Salazar Slytherin desired to totally eliminate contact between Muggles and wizards. Even today, as you are well aware, we seek to keep Muggles unaware of our existence. At the time of our Founders, this was even more a matter of life and death, as I'm sure you understand. But I'm certain you're also wondering what this has to do with Severus's concerns?"

Hermione realized she was kneading her own jean-clad thighs in frustration and stilled her fingers and nodded mutely.

"Muggle-borns rarely want to leave the Muggle world behind, but instead tend to want to introduce Muggle concepts into wizarding culture."

"But I didn't! It was the Room of Requirement that..."

"That responded to your specific desires and requirements and provided your wedding.'

"But that's ridiculous. It had nothing to do with my desires. If anything, perhaps it recognized the inability of anyone to annul my marriage if it were done officially under the auspices of the cathedral."

"That's possible..." he said thoughtfully, casting a quick glance at Professor Snape who stood stiffly, arms folded across his chest, glaring at nothing. "Every choice made that day, from your Sealing to the wizarding rites used, was certainly made with that in mind."

Professor Snape stifled a low growl.

"But these vows... perhaps they bear some discussion." Professor Dumbledore offered her the dish of sherbet lemons, which she declined with a sharp jerk of her head.

"They're just the standard..." She broke off with a blush. "Well, if I'd been consulted, there are certain things that would not have been in them."

"Such as?" Dumbledore sucked on his candy.

She slid a quick glance at Professor Snape whose glare, fortunately, still wasn't focused in her direction. "I would not have sworn a vow of obedience."

Both wizards looked at her in astonishment.

"The traditional and historic rites call for the wife to love, honor and obey," she said crisply.

"No witch would ever take such a vow," Dumbledore exclaimed. "No wizard would ever ask it."

"Really?" she asked, her voice dripping with acid. "How forward thinking of you. Especially considering you think nothing of enforcing the Marriage Law which essentially does the same thing for the unfortunate Muggle-born bride who marries a wizard who wants to take her wand."

Dumbledore shot a quick look at Professor Snape. "Surely Severus hasn't..."

"Of course not!" Hermione and Professor Snape said in unison.

Professor Dumbledore relaxed. "And what did Severus vow?"

Hermione opened her mouth, and then promptly shut it. Odd how important mere words became when analyzed so brutally. They both waited. She finally spoke the vow aloud. "Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others keep thee only to her, so long as you both shall live?"

She waited for a reaction and when neither man spoke, finally forced herself to look up, first at the Headmaster, who in turn studied Professor Snape with none of his usual genial artifice. "What is it, Severus?"

Professor Snape looked as if he'd been hexed.

"I thought fidelity was expected in a wizarding marriage, too," she said, hoping to avert attention from the more problematical aspect of the vow.

"You required me to make a vow to love you? And pray tell," Professor Snape asked, his voice dripping with venom, "what is the penalty for breaking that vow?"

She leaped to her feet. "I required nothing! You're both making too much of this."

"Hermione," Professor Dumbledore said softly, "I fear you are making too little of it."

She shook her head helplessly. "It's not that I ever intended to take my vows lightly. If I thought of it at all, I intended them to be the most important words I ever spoke." She raised her face to the Headmaster, pleading for understanding. "But I didn't choose this. Professor Snape asked me if I had any foolish ideas about weddings, and I told him no because I didn't. I didn't." She turned to Professor Snape. "I'm sure even the most superficial knowledge of the Muggle world reveals the tragedy that too many people make the vows and then break them, and while that's horrible in the general scheme of things, you must realize I would never...I don't have any delusions about the circumstances of our marriage, nor did I ever require you to love me."

"You seem to be missing a key element of this situation, Miss Granger, " he hissed. "In that, it wasn't a man who made that vow. It was a wizard."

She blinked in confusion.

"I think what my wife is missing is that we are not mere Muggles, and when we make such vows, they are not mere words to be tossed aside or ignored on a whim," Professor Snape sneered. "Did you not notice the magical bonds? Did you not understand that when you married me, you took a wizarding oath? And that your Muggle vows are now part of it? Tell me, Miss Granger, when was the last time you took a wizarding oath?"

"Never," she whispered.

"Correction. The day we were married."

She stared at him numbly.

"Please," Professor Dumbledore said. "Both of you. Sit down. I'll order tea. I think we're going to be here for awhile."

"Call Dobby," Hermione said automatically. "He can bring Professor Snape's special tea."

If the Headmaster was surprised by the idea that his Potions master had a "special tea," he didn't let it show. Once the order was placed, he settled back in his high-backed upholstered chair.

"I have the vows at home," Hermione said. "I can get them if you think they're important. They were the first English-language vows, translated from the Latin by Thomas Cranmer. And that in itself should prove that I didn't choose them. I studied them out of academic curiosity, but had Father Gadbury actually asked me, I would have chosen..."

"Please spare us the lecture, Miss Granger," Professor Snape sneered.

"I think perhaps what might be more important in this situation," Professor Dumbledore continued smoothly, "would be to examine what was in your mind and heart at the moment you entered the Room of Requirement. And that includes not necessarily the literal meanings of the vows, but what attachment you might have had to them, that the Room of Requirement provided them, and even provided a sacramental marriage rite, at all."

"I was afraid, and I felt..." She swallowed thickly. "I felt stupid."

"How difficult for you," her husband supplied silkily.

"Severus," the Headmaster warned.

She forced herself to continue. "But mostly, I felt horribly guilty for not thinking it through and realizing what an incredibly selfish request I'd made when I asked Professor Snape to... save me." Marry me.

"Ah." Professor Dumbledore paused thoughtfully. "There is that. How did you come to this decision since he hadn't even offered?"

"I don't know. I was just upset and fretting over it all and I... I remember..."

Oh, god.

Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.

She looked up at Professor Dumbledore, unable to look in the direction of the Dark wizard beside her. Surely she needn't tell. Surely it wasn't really what it was beginning to seem like.

"Miss Granger?" the Headmaster prodded, suddenly intent.

"Madam Snape," her husband snapped, but she felt his burning black eyes on her.

"I... I think I might have prayed."

"Merlin's fucking ghost!" Professor Snape hissed.

"It wasn't like that!" she protested. "It wasn't a kneeling, hands-folded prayer! It was just a...I suppose a cry for help, and it might not have been a prayer at all. It was just words..." She took a deep breath and fought for calm. "I had all those offers in front of me, some from Death Eaters, some from friends, some from wizards I didn't even know, and I felt so helpless, and I was upset and frustrated and I said..." She gulped. "I said, 'Dear God, who do I choose?"

"Are you telling me that the Muggle God appeared in your presence in all his heavenly glory and told you to drag me into your personal hell with you?" Snape demanded, his face paler than usual.

"No! Of course not. I'm just saying in retrospect, maybe it was, well, a prayer. And no sooner had I said it, than I thought, 'Why didn't Professor Snape ask me?'"

"Miss Granger!" he roared. "Did it ever occur to you that that might have been a rhetorical question?"

"It's not as if I thought to myself, 'I think I'll pray about it,' and then considered you the answer to my prayers!" she snapped. "It's just that as soon as I thought...as soon as I thought of you...I simply felt this overwhelming relief, as if you were the answer to all my problems, and that's when I took off for Diagon Alley and asked George to bring me here..."

"Yes, we know the rest of the story," he spat.

Crack!

The tea tray appeared with three mismatched cups and saucers, a huge round pot of tea and all the accompanying tea things.

Hands trembling, Hermione didn't wait. She grabbed a cup for herself and filled it to drink black.

Professor Snape could prepare his own bloody tea.

"Severus, you know how I like mine," Professor Dumbledore said with a very false twinkle, as he studied her closely. She pretended not to care.

She watched Professor Snape stir four spoons of sugar into a cup that was more milk than tea and hand it to his superior. She restrained from wincing.

While Professor Snape prepared his own, Professor Dumbledore sipped and watched Hermione. "And, forgive me, dear, I realize this might be awkward, but you didn't harbor any romantic feelings about Severus prior to that day?"

"Not even on that day!"

"Hmmm." He sipped appreciatively. "This is very good tea, Severus."

"How can you tell?" Professor Snape responded with a decided lack of grace.

Professor Dumbledore returned his attention to Hermione. "You say you had no wedding fantasies dancing in your head, yet we ended up in a very specific place, with a very specific priest, and a very specific result. It's rather puzzling, don't you think?"

"Professor Dumbledore, whether you want to believe me or not, unlike most of the girls of my acquaintance, I find Arithmancy more intriguing than weddings. I haven't given a thought to weddings and marriage since I was a child in confirmation class."

He beamed. "Excellent, my dear. Tell me, what kinds of thoughts did you have then?"

She stared at him and felt anew her anger at one Professor Severus Snape for dragging her up here for this. If he'd only let her explain! If he'd only kept this between the two of them, instead of forcing her to make these embarrassing revelations in front of the Headmaster!

"Miss..." the Headmaster began.

"Madam..." Professor Snape interrupted.

"Madam Snape," the Headmaster corrected himself with a nod to Professor Snape. "There's no reason to be upset. But there's every reason to be open. This is of vital importance to us all."

She stared over his shoulder, refusing to meet either of their gazes. "As I tried to explain to Professor Snape, a sacrament is a rite in which God himself is present. When we studied the sacraments, Father Gadbury explained the sacrament of marriage as vows made between a man and a woman to one another, but in the presence of God and blessed by God. The priest...no matter who he or she is...is pretty much window dressing. The real work is done by those participating in the ritual."

Professor Dumbledore seemed to be following very closely, but also seemed to recognize that there was more, as he waited expectantly for her to continue. She sighed. "He said that history and tradition teach that marriage was offered to us to mimic the bond between Christ and the church." She hesitated. "And it offered an opportunity for a man and a woman to share relations and avoid the carnal sins of the flesh..."

Professor Snape hissed his disapproval.

"...but Father Gadbury said that he rather thought that most people stumble through life, bouncing from one relationship to the next. They are continually looking for more and more varied sexual experiences...for thrills...always looking for something more and only finding temporary satisfaction..."

"You were ten years old and he spoke to you of sex?" Professor Snape demanded.

"Only in the theological sense!" she retorted. And then added, "And yes, I was a little embarrassed, but then, he was accustomed to teaching that class to older students, and...and, will you let me finish!"

He waved a hand at her and glared out the night-dark window.

"Father Gadbury said that those who enter into a sacramental marriage discover, together, that it is the man and woman themselves and the love and respect and nurturing that they have for one another that provides a sexual satisfaction that transcends all others. That this is what everyone seeks but can't find because they lack the essential foundation of their relationship with one another."

"How sweet."

"Severus," the Headmaster warned. "And at ten years old, your impressions of this were...?"

She winced. "Having just learned what sex actuallywas, I decided promptly that I wanted a sacramental marriage because I wanted it to be right the first time, and not have to go about doing messy things with a series of different men looking for something that wasn't going to be there, anyway."

Professor Dumbledore choked on his sherbet lemon and coughed.

She was quite certain she was blushing from her toenails to the roots of her hair. "I was only ten years old."

"Well." Professor Dumbledore, having recovered, popped another sweet in his mouth. "That would explain a lot."

She became aware of the waves of rage radiating from beside her and warily met Professor Snape's gaze. "Are you telling me that we went through that farce with Merlin only knows what repercussions simply because the Room of Requirement was responding to your ten-year-old's fantasies of what would constitute good sex?"

"Severus!" the Headmaster thundered. "That's enough! Might I remind you that it was you who stopped me from entering the Floo first? That if I'd been the one who had entered the Room of Requirement first, it would have provided what was in the best interests of the Order, if not the entire wizarding world?"

"Oh, yes, and because I had one chivalrous moment in my entire fucking life, I'm bringing the wizarding world as we know it to an end!"

"We don't know that," the Headmaster replied, but he was clearly concerned.

"Why do you keep saying these things?" Hermione demanded. "What does all this have to do with the Order or the wizarding world or anything other than Professor Snape and me?"

"My dear girl," the Headmaster replied. "While 'Muggle magic' is certainly too simplistic a term for what happens in Muggle religion, the fact is that by commingling 'Muggle magic' and 'wizarding magic' in your marriage ritual, we have committed a grave error. We don't know what will happen, but when the two meet, the results are rarely benign. And I hope you don't take this the wrong way, dear, but it's not how it might affect you that disturbs me. Over the past two weeks, I've observed marked changes in behaviour in the Order's most valuable resource, our only spy amongst the Death Eaters. Perhaps it's simply the awkwardness of adjusting to your new situation. But if it's not...if he is now acting under some new magical compulsions...I fear for us all."

A vice closed over her heart. Magical compulsions?

"However," he added carefully, "it's possible that we can eliminate at least some of our fears about the vows. You raise an interesting point when you mention... obedience?" He looked at her hopefully. "Surely you haven't found yourself magically bound to obey your husband's every whim?"

"No," she said automatically. "Of course not." But other thoughts whirled through her mind. She would do anything to please him. The desire to refuse him nothing, nothing. The ache that was almost agony.

"And you, Severus? Have you formed a passionate new love for this young woman you held in utter disdain as little as two weeks ago?"

"Absolutely not!" he spat.

"Then perhaps this really is much ado about nothing," Professor Dumbledore concluded.

Magical compulsions? It wasn't... real?

The very thought of it was enough to rend her heart.

"Thank you," she said, her head spinning. "I mean...well, thank you."

Hermione stood on trembling legs, willing them to be strong enough to support her weight.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she made a very un-Gryffindor exit.

She fled.

XX

Snape jerked to his feet, seething.

"Albus," he said with a jerk of his head. It was the closest to a respectful nod he could muster. He was halfway to the door when Albus's voice stopped him.

"Severus... stay."

He spun back to face the older wizard.

"You will not follow her," Albus said severely. "Not until we are finished."

Swallowing his rage, Snape forced himself back into the chair.

"Whatever situation you are in, remember, you chose it. You walked into it willingly and against my own advice. You have chosen not to seek my help and have chosen not to keep me informed as to your plans and whereabouts. Your actions over the past two weeks are alarming and confusing. Perhaps you've uncovered their cause, but perhaps not. There are other explanations for why you would find yourself so attached to Miss Granger..."

"You're being ridiculous. I no more have feelings for her than I do for Flitwick."

"Severus, you could have brought me your concerns, and we could have proceeded to get this same information without the humiliation you put the girl through tonight."

"Woman," he corrected, feeling his face flush under the old man's scrutiny.

"Perhaps you should give her some time alone to come to terms with what all this might mean for her."

"For her?" Snape gaped at him. "For her? You said it yourself. I'm the one at risk here."

"Of course you are," Albus responded blandly. "But you'll come through, now that you understand what is happening."

"Your concern for me, as always, is a comfort."

"I'm concerned for you, never fear that. Forgive me for being a soft old fool, but tonight, I fear I'm more concerned for Miss Granger." Albus stared into his milky tea. "It was her heart that broke in front of me, after all."

Snape rose stiffly, allowing his cup and saucer to drop to Albus's desk with a clatter.

He left the Headmaster's office with a billow of his cloak.