Troubled Decisions

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o 14 o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Troubled Decisions

~H~

Hermione could hear Ginny's footsteps stop just outside her door for the third time that morning. Kreacher had popped in at least six times, exchanging the tea and peeking at her before leaving with another pop. Still, Hermione didn't want to get out of bed. She wasn't ready to face the day. More importantly, she didn't want to face anyone. She didn't want to be in the library or – anywhere.

When she thought about yesterday, the last day of Severus' trial, she felt a tight knot in her gut. After weeks of standing by him, weeks of interrogations and testimony, letting him use me as his – his personal whore! And when it was all over – he pushed me away at arm's length and told me to calm myself as if I was a child! I was happy for him, thrilled that he was free, and he admonished me for showing a bit of excitement for him! She'd tried hugging him, only to be set firmly on her feet as he'd turned to follow Kingsley. He didn't even look at me in the lift and gave me only the briefest glance in Kingsley's office when I congratulated him on being offered the Headmaster's position at school. She had been hurt by his lack of response; his eyes had been distant, cool, and his expression blank and indifferent. Severus simply left through the Minister's Floo without even saying anything to me: not a look, nor a nod, or a scowl – nothing! I trapped him into this, forced him, Bonded him magically, and he hates it. Oh, he likes the sex – I think – but it's me he can't stand.

If this was one of the Gryffindor girls or a friend telling me that their boyfriend was treating them like this, I'd tell her dump the sod. Maggie Whitmire sent me an owl as soon as the trial was over asking me, yet again, what I intend to do... What am I going to do? Hermione sat up, looking at the room. She took in her childhood furnishings with its white paint and bright cheerful colors, set against the old, flocked, dark burgundy wall covering, antique wardrobe, and grimy landscape painting in the room she'd claimed as hers, and sneered. A little girl's boudoir in a dark cave... It's time to grow up and decide what I want to do.

She opened the wardrobe, choosing an old school blouse and her jeans. She grabbed a robe and her boots, stowing her wand in her pocket as she finished dressing and quickly braided her hair. She needed a mother and knew only one woman who would be impartial with her. She ran down the steps and Disapparated from the front stoop, appearing at the Apparation site for Diagon Alley. Hermione strode quickly and purposefully to her destination.

~S~

Severus appreciated Molly's hospitality, but more so, he greatly appreciated the escape from the Ministry that Kingsley and Arthur had arranged for him. However, he could only take Molly's crying, when she didn't realize anyone was around to witness it, or the proverbial Mollycoddling she tried to bestow on him, for so long. Severus wasn't comfortable with such constant hovering, motherly attention. Even his own mum never coddled him or hovered over him in such a way. So, after a leisurely bath and scrumptious lunch, Severus left the Burrow with as much graciousness as he could muster for the quiet sanctuary of Malfoy manor, sending the crates of his belongings ahead of him.

Severus knew that since Lucius and Narcissa had managed to keep him reasonably concealed while he recovered from Nagini's bite, it would be his safest retreat until he could think of what he wanted to do. And the wards and protective curses surrounding the manor might even keep reporters at bay, affording him relative peace to think. Besides, the Aurors had broken into his father's house, so there was no telling if the reporters knew where his home was, as well. Narcissa greeted him as he entered, welcoming him back and offering her congratulations.

The following morning, his first day of true freedom, Severus decided to take a walk through the extensive gardens of the manor grounds. He strolled leisurely on the garden paths, lost in his own thoughts, and ended up in the herb garden, wandering through the magical and medicinal plants. He broke off a sprig of rosemary, rolled the twig through his fingers, and inhaled the scent. As he continued through the garden, he tried to refrain from naming all the plants and listing their uses as well as in which potions they were a primary ingredient.

Instead, he needed to decide what to do about Kingsley's offer to return to Hogwarts as Headmaster. Hermione will be returning as a student – my student if I accept. That complicates things. The charter states that, as a professor, I'm not allowed to conduct in illicit behaviors with my students; as Headmaster, it would be completely forbidden. Nevertheless, we are Bonded, and as such, it couldn't really be considered illicit, could it? In addition, it isn't unheard of for Professors to be married, and Hermione is of legal age for marriage. In the past, spouses were permitted to live in the castle or in Hogsmeade – that's what's preferred currently. But Hermione will be in the castle – as a student... She's a young – actually an adult of eighteen and only returning because she was denied returning due to the Dark Lord and the war. Besides, she Bound us... I didn't pursue her.

He needed the counsel of someone who'd understand and knew the bylaws well. The only person he could think of was Dumbledore. But he's dead – by my hand – unless I speak to his portrait. Would Minerva allow me to... Minerva, of course! She was Dumbledore's right hand and Deputy Headmistress for years.

"Let me guess. Matching the names of Narcissa's herbs to your repertoire of potions?" Lucius said languidly, coming up to stand next to him.

Severus silently berated himself for being caught unawares. "Contemplating life," he said softly.

"And how is your dear wife?" Lucius asked.

"Life, Lucius," Severus corrected him, "not wife, and she's my Bonded mate."

Lucius plucked a Rudbeckia flower, examining the petals around the dark center. "Bright girl, top of her class. Witty, intelligent, clever. An uncommonly kind witch with the ability to see the best in others, always standing up for those less fortunate or weaker..."

"I know her qualities, Lucius, you don't have to spell them out for me," Severus stated, not really desiring to talk to his old friend about Hermione.

"Do you?" Lucius asked, looking up at him with a grin. "Then of whom do I speak?"

"Hermione," Severus stated, suppressing his annoyance.

"Oh, really? You, think so? I only actually met the girl briefly – twice. But no," Lucius stated with a sly smile, "I was referring to the other one; the pretty redhead who married Potter. Her name was Lily, if I recall."

Severus was momentarily taken aback, not expecting this turn in the conversation. "You know very well what her name was. Why mention her? What's your point?"

"I never did understand your infatuation with that witch," Lucius stated off-handedly. "You were willing to throw it all away for her, begging the Dark Lord to spare her life. Therefore, I made inquiries, discreetly of course, to try and figure out her appeal. Do you know what I discovered?"

He made inquiries – about Lily? When? "Enlighten me," Severus said smoothly, curious in spite of himself.

"She was supposedly a very capable and brilliant girl. She was an avid reader, a know-it-all, and all the professors loved her. Prefect, Head Girl, captain of the Charms Club, member of the Slug club, and if I'm not mistaken, she won the Hector Dagworth-Granger award from the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers for some potion or other..." he said with a flip of his hand.

"Langerfiled's Lethargy Potion," Severus stated automatically. "She solved Langerfiled's theory for the potion and improved it, making the potion viable. It helps strengthen those suffering from the effects of certain curses such as the Cruciatus."

"Ah yes," Lucius said with a sly grin that reflected in his grey eyes, which told Severus he was up to something and trying to manipulate him. "Still, she's quite a remarkable young witch, wouldn't you agree?" he said, returning his attention to the flower. "Who courageously stood up to us countless of times, quite brave and daring, and who showed a great deal of nerve each time? Apparently very loyal, a strong sense of justice, unafraid of hard work, enjoys incessant research, possesses a ready mind, and desirous of reading and learning everything she could get her hands on... or so I am told."

"I suppose so," Severus admitted. Just get to your point!

"Draco tells me that she organized this Dumbledore's Army and something called spew for house-elf rights," Lucius stated smoothly, turning the flower in his fingers.

"Lily did no such thing... You mean Hermione?" Severus asked, annoyed. What are you up to old friend?

"They are remarkably similar... same characteristics, similar interests, both rising for lost causes, standing up strongly for what they believe in... I do see why you are drawn to her," Lucius let the flower drop, "regardless of her inferior birth."

I've known this for years – and their differences. "It's not the same," Severus denied. "I wasn't drawn to Hermione – she was simply a student." Why is Lucius pointing out their similarities?

"No? You never went out of your way to protect her, did you?" Lucius queried with a hint of sarcasm and a lift of an eyebrow. "Severus, I have known you for years. I helped shape you and brought you into the fold, even paved the way for your acceptance by the crème of pureblood society. And yet there is one fact that has eluded everyone who thought they knew you – but obviously didn't know you as well as I do."

"And that is?" Severus said, crossing his arms. He knew perfectly well that Lucius had made the introductions, but he had earned the respect the others had for him. He'd even managed to maintain that respect even after turning spy for the Order. There were very few who hadn't respected him – or fear him at least – which had helped him gain good standing in the eyes of the Dark Lord, despite his blood heritage.

"You are drawn to strength of power, bravery, courage, defiance, and wit. You admire most a keen intellect, a clever mind, and loyalty – over blood," Lucius stated.

Severus stared at the man, keeping his emotions in careful control.

"Oh, you've had your dalliances and enjoyed the favors of women, but not one of them could penetrate your hardened shell. And yet, when you finally fall for a witch, you pick one with the exact same characteristics and status as your first love."

"I didn't fall for Hermione – I was trapped into this with a Matchmaking Spell!" he said, controlling the bitterness he still felt because of that. "I don't love Hermione."

"Yet you were furiously possessive when I mentioned sharing her – in fact, you nearly hexed my head off." Severus opened his mouth to retort, but Lucius held up his hand. "You do have feelings for Mrs. Snape." Severus started to speak once more, but Lucius turned to face him squarely and continued, undaunted. "I think she offended your male ego, and you've been taking out your wounded pride on her. You are acting like she sought a way to trap you. But truly, Severus, do you really think she carried any type of crush on you while in school? Do you really think she was so desperately infatuated with you that she would do this to you on purpose? That isn't how this particular spell works, and you know it. If her intent was to ensnare you, there are far more successful spells that will do just that and much more effectively."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "No, as a student she was enamored with Viktor Krum, as well as the youngest Weasley boy. I know that she tried to gain my approval academically, always giving her utmost in her classes, but it wasn't personal. She strove for excellence in all her subjects."

Lucius nodded. "You know this Moon-Song Curse as well as I do – it selects the match using the deepest of magic, some even say Dark Magic. It chooses the caster's mate regardless of age, social standing, blood purity, or previous knowledge or familiarity. That is the reason it is so seldom used – it matches and binds soul mates, most often with horrible unpredictability, all wrapped up and presented in a pretty poetic disguise. I know that you're trapped in a situation you don't care for. But please, use your brain long enough to contemplate why the spell matched you in the first place. This is one of the strongest matchmaking spells known, and it has been the source of myth and legend."

Severus squared his shoulders as he listened to Lucius, pushing his ire at his friend deep down. "It's far more complicated than that."

"Enlighten me," Lucius said smugly.

"I was her bloody professor! I was abhorrent toward her at school. She has no reason to admire me or even like me. Bloody hell, I even killed her precious Dumbledore," he snarled. "She is very well aware of what and who I am, what I'm capable of, and I'm twice her age. I'm bloody old enough to be her father!"

Lucius smiled as if he had just made the decisive move at chess. "And yet, she was present throughout most of your trial and paid you weekly conjugal visits in Azkaban."

Severus wanted to wipe the smug look of his face. "It was only twice. She used sex to get to me, so she could convince me to confess to everything and succumb to a trial."

"Which you did," Lucius said smoothly. "Quite cunning actually – for a Gryffindor." A peacock cried from across the grounds, and the elder Malfoy smiled. "You do know that even if she requests an annulment, you and she are Bonded for life – magically bonded. The Ministry can approve and even dissolve the union, but it will have no more weight than a Papal dispensation. It will only have weight because she believes it does."

"Still, it would be best if she did," Snape replied, turning to leave. He would not be forced to listen to any more of this.

"If that's what you believe, Severus," Lucius said, not bothering to follow him. "But like I said, I know you, and I think that of all the young witches available, this one suits you. You'd be a fool to let her go – regardless of her inferior birth."

Severus was fuming at Lucius's intrusion, especially because he was correct. There were just as many similarities between Lily and Hermione as there were differences. Actually, there were very few differences, and he'd focused on those distinctions purely out of self-preservation for the six years he'd known the girl. But the fact was, it was her similarities, the ones which Lucius so amiably pointed out, that had constantly grated on his nerves every time he saw her or spoke to her.

The fact of the matter was, Hermione had impressed him when she'd visited him in jail. She had stood up to him the way Lily used to for the first time since he'd known the girl. He was still amazed that she had come to see him, let alone under the pretence of a conjugal visit, and then actually wanted to have sex with him. He still carried her knickers in his pocket, simply to feel the soft silky fabric or to smell her musky scent, and for the images both actions afforded him. He'd been unsure as to why she'd left them behind, thinking at first that it was to torture him.

And now the insufferable little girl he'd known at Hogwarts was his Bonded mate. Apparently his soul mate if he'd read the spell correctly – which he was certain of that, since he'd found the spell in no less than six of Lucius's books. However, the entries for the charm – or curse, as it seemed to cross definition – very clearly spelled out the consequences of utilizing it. Yet, somehow Hermione seemed oblivious to those very consequences, and that confused him. She was the most diligent and capable researcher he'd encountered as a student in many years and had always been extremely thorough. Her mind was literally a sponge for the written word. Still, it looks like she had used that insipid curse without having any understanding of the intricacies and the consequence of the spell. And that's just not like her at all. And now, because of it, she is my mate. The thought alone made the lower part of his anatomy react, belying any argument his mind made about ending things with her. She is mine. Lucius is right; we have to talk about this, and I don't need him meddling in our decision either.

Severus entered the bedroom and stared at the huge bed that had been his since Narcissa had brought him here. The expensive, tasteful furnishings with the well chosen, ostentatious adornments to the room, the opulent bedding, elegant drapery and curtains didn't reflect a lifestyle Severus could ever hope to achieve, nor truthfully did he want to. But then again, Spinner's End is simply a place to brew potions and sleep. It hardly reflects the man I am either. Still, if Hermione is to make up her mind about me, she should see me as I truly am – not this elegant and opulent presentation that I could never provide for her.

Severus levitated his crates through the doors and down to the foyer so he could Apparate them to Spinner's End.

"Going somewhere?" Narcissa greeted him as she entered the foyer.

Severus nodded. "I wish to see the state of my house."

"I know that the home was raided," she said softly, although her voice sounded louder off the pristine marble. "If you need any assistance bringing your home to order, I'd be happy to lend you a house-elf or two. I do know the havoc Aurors can do in the pursuit of their searches."

"Thank you," he replied, giving her a slight bow. "I'd appreciate that if the house is still usable."

"Will you be returning for dinner?" she asked.

Severus looked at the crates. "It really depends on the state of things. I suspect I'll be gone the rest of the day."

Narcissa smiled. "I shall see you later then. If not, good night, Severus."

"Good night, Narcissa," he said and Apparated himself and his belongings to his sitting room.

The house was silent and had obviously been ransacked carelessly. The furniture had been overturned and several pieces broken, but it was not totally beyond magical repair. He'd learnt how to repair furniture at a young age, assisting his mum. Severus opened the large crates to see what, if anything, Arthur and Kingsley had been able to salvage from the Aurors.

~H~

George looked up, a questioning furrow on his face as Hermione stormed past him toward his backroom. "I need to use one of your owls," she said, not meaning to sound so demanding.

"Ah, er, okay," he replied as she passed him. "Hermione...?"

She found quill and ink where he handled his owl orders and quickly drafted a note, simply asking permission to visit and offering a brief reason as to why, then watched the owl fly way with it. She felt apprehensive, antsy, and restless. She could feel her energy surge in her. I need something to do.

"Er, Hermione...?" George asked as she scanned the backroom. It was clean and everything was in its place.

Bollocks... Her eyes fell on the inventory board, noticing there were items on the product list that were glowing. "I'm going to brew some of these," she replied, grabbing a cauldron from under the counter.

"Okay. Sure," George replied, leaning against the doorframe. "Who am I to turn down free help from one of Hogwarts' brightest witches? But I've only one question – why?"

Hermione had been busily pulling out ingredients and setting them on her worktable. "Because I don't want to think right now."

"Oh, right. Makes perfect sense – by all means. Sure. Brew potions I invented so you don't have to think," he smirked. "Just don't blow up my backroom."

Hermione glared at him before turning back to work. Soon she was lost in the process of creation, admiring the softly rising steam, the subtle changes in color, and consistency within her third cauldron. Setting it aside, she pulled out another cauldron and poured in firewhisky and salt to begin the next Weasley chew. When she finally noticed that the light had changed and that candles and lanterns lit the room instead of sunlight streaming in through the windows, she was setting the ninth cauldron on the cooling rack.

She was standing at the worktable, waiting for the steam from the Daydream Potion to change directions so she could finish that one too when she heard George speak up behind her. "Hermione, labor laws say you are supposed to take a break."

Hermione turned to see him still standing against the doorframe. "You've been watching me?"

"Oh, yes, I've nothing better to do than watch you brew ten potions," he replied with a smirk. "Are you hungry?"

"My potion is nearly done," she replied, checking it just in case. The steam still curled to the left.

"Angie and Courtney are meeting me at the Leaky Cauldron for dinner. You're welcome to come."

"I don't think that that would be a good idea," Hermione said hesitantly as she started tidying up her mess.

"It's not a problem; Angelina and I have dinner occasionally, it's not anything serious, and this time her cousin is coming along. I'm sure that they wouldn't mind," George said, confused. "Hermione are you all right?"

"No. Yes, I'm all right," she stammered. "I can't go with you," she stated. "Severus... He was so jealous the last time I slept here. I thought he was going to curse you or something."

George smiled and crossed his arms. "He was jealous? Of me?"

"He was right mad that I spent the night here. Accused me of sleeping with you, and I think he wanted to use Legilimency on me," she stated, gripping the counter, waiting for the curl of the steam to turn to the right. "I didn't tell him that Ron kissed me."

"Good. I'd hate to know what his reaction would be if he knew what Ron did that night," George said with a chuckle.

She set the sink to start scouring the used cauldrons. "It's not working out you know. Despite what everyone says... he hates me."

"I think things are better than you think they are," he said, and Hermione turned just in time to see him back out of the room.

"George," she called out, and he turned around in the doorway. "I wish you were my brother. In fact, I wish I had a brother. It's nice to have someone to talk to."

"You are like a sister to me, Hermione. I've always thought of you like that. Fred was better at relationships than me, but you can always talk to me if you need to. Or if you ever feel like not thinking again – my workspace is always available," he said, smiling. "But you've become a Weasley. Even though you wised up and broke things off with Ron, you're like one of the family now. We Weasleys are a tight lot. There is always one of us you can come to if you need advice – or even if you don't."

"Thank you," she replied, turning back to her potion before the tears in her eyes fell. "Thank you for everything."

"No problem," he said. "I close up in a half hour. Will you be done by then?"

"Yes."

As Hermione was leaving the shop, the owl she'd sent swept through the door, depositing a folded note into her outstretched hands before flying toward the back room to roost. A small metal hairpin lay in the folded parchment, which read:

Hermione,

Minerva McGonagall

Hermione sighed as she pocketed the note and the Portkey.

*

Hermione arrived at an adorable stone cottage surrounded by a rock wall. The garden had highland heather, lavender, and a lilacs mixed in with various shrubs, and the path was lined with Gerber daisies. She knocked on the red door and was immediately greeted by Professor McGonagall. "Hermione, I wondered if I'd see you today."

Hermione felt a little intimidated seeing Professor McGonagall standing primly in her crisp blouse and tartan skirt. "Thank you for agreeing to see me," she said in a small voice. "I hope that this isn't a bad time?"

"No, it's fine," Minerva said, opening the door wider.

"Thank you for the Portkey," Hermione said, handing back the hairpin. "You've a lovely home. Where are we exactly?"

Professor McGonagall smiled, and her expression turned warmer. "A stone's throw from the River Tweed near Dryburgh. I didn't know if you'd be able to Apparate here. This was easier," she said, pocketing the hairpin. "Come in, come in," she said, stepping aside. The smell of fresh baked bread filled the house as Professor McGonagall guided Hermione to the kitchen area. The table was set for a formal tea for two. "Please, have a seat," she said. "So tell me, what is troubling you?"

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, but as I stated in my note, my mum is still in Australia, and I don't think Mrs. Weasley would be a good choice considering... And well," Hermione said as she sat down, "you're the next closest person I have to a mother figure."

"I'm quite flattered, Miss Granger, or should I call you Mrs. Snape?" Professor McGonagall's posture became slightly straighter, but a soft blush graced her cheeks. "I don't usually invite my students to my home. However, for you, I chose to make an exception."

"Thank you," Hermione said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Please, for now, will you simply call me Hermione? I'm not all that sure about the other designation. We haven't confirmed the Bonding, so I'm not sure if I really am..."

"Of course, Hermione." Professor McGonagall smiled as the carried over a silver tea service with a tray of a little tea sandwiches and fruit floating along behind her and settling on the table. "Maybe you'd like to tell me what is bothering you, dear."

Hermione nodded and began telling Professor McGonagall all about the Moon-Song Spell, how she had been so certain it would connect her to Ron but that it had connected her to Severus instead.

She told her how different Severus had been from the spell-induced dream, to their first night together and each visit after, and how used she felt by his actions toward her since the dreams. She described the events of his trial, how he'd ignored her each day, then all but admonished her at the end of his trial, and how he'd pushed her aside. Finally, she confessed how each time she'd visited him in jail, he'd insisted she procure the annulment, and tried to explain her reason for delaying but now thought she was simply forcing him into a relationship he resented and certainly didn't want to continue.

Professor McGonagall interjected questions and listened to Hermione's answers attentively, even adding queries regarding her relationship with Ron. In the end, after a brief silence, Minerva set her cup down. "Hermione, I'm rather disappointed in you. Using a spell, especially a matchmaking spell for fun, would not be the kind of behavior I had come to expect from you. It's certainly quite reckless for the brilliant, responsible young witch I taught at Hogwarts! Be that as it may, you now have to face your consequences. This really is a matter between you and Severus Snape."

Hermione felt slightly crushed by the reprimand, but knowing her professor, she hadn't really expected anything less.

"I don't think I have to remind you that you are no longer a child. Therefore, young lady, in personal decisions such as this, you can't expect someone else to make your decisions for you now that you are legally an adult," Minerva continued, then paused again as her expression softened. "But if you'd like my opinion, I'm afraid that I don't know what to tell you, Hermione. I wish I did. I do realize we are discussing Severus Snape, the evil, greasy git, and the snarky bat of the dungeons?" she asked with an amused smile, and Hermione blushed. "Yes, I do know what the students say about him – they've been calling him that for years. The thing is, I've known Severus since he was a boy, and he has never really been a very romantic, solicitous type. I know he was deeply enamored of Lily Evans as a boy, but they had a horrible falling out, and since then he hasn't been involved with a young lady – not seriously at any rate."

"What was he like when he was my age?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Shorter, thinner, and less particular about his grooming," Professor McGonagall said with a smirk. "At least he's more particular about the cleanliness of his clothes as an adult, but I suspect that's more a compliment on the Hogwarts house-elves than his own inclinations." She paused as she sipped her tea. "I think you'll have to follow your own heart and listen to what your logical mind tells you. But you've not exactly painted a promising image from what you've told me. Usually, arranged or magical unions are taken very seriously in the wizarding world, and the couples are expected to work things out. Annulments are rare and divorce is nearly unheard of. Severus is well versed in the social ethics and mores of the wizarding culture, and he strictly adheres to them, not counting his darker years, of course. But it doesn't seem as if the two of you have spent any real amount of time together, and that is unfortunate."

"I really don't think he wants to. He picks me up – except the two times together in Azkaban – and when he's, er, done, he takes me right back. I'm nothing more than a convenient call girl to him!" Hermione exclaimed and then blushed. "Oh, sorry, I don't mean to be crude. But he's doesn't seem to want to talk or spend any more time with me than what it takes to – you know, shag. If this is marriage with him..."

"But you haven't really had any time to spend with each other, not really," Professor McGonagall pointed out. "First he was in hiding, then arrested, and then on trial. Maybe you should stand up to him and force him... But I do see your dilemma. Severus isn't the type to be forced into anything he doesn't consider his duty to do. Only Dumbledore could make Severus do what he didn't want to, and You-Know-Who."

"Exactly. And he still intimidates me so," Hermione stated. "Do you know if Severus is going to accept the Headmaster's position?"

"I've yet to be informed, but I have told Minister Kingsley I will be happy to fill the post for a few years." She smiled at Hermione's surprised expression. "I had hoped to retire in four years, when Albus... He was going to retire as well. But if Severus does, and you choose to remain Bonded to him, the nature of your relationship will have to be clearly defined and carefully concealed – if that is remotely possible – from the rest of the students. If you choose to annul the Bond, things will be far less complicated. But the decision is yours."

*

Despondent at failing at her first marriage, Hermione poured herself a glass of Firewhisky, unsure of how much she should allow herself since she'd seldom drunk liquor before. She only knew that she didn't want to think about Severus Snape, or Ron Weasley, or her failure in her Bonding. She pulled out a large potions book and sipped her drink, trying to focus on the Potions and not contemplate her options. But the liquor eventually made the pages seem blurry, and her mind wandered to Severus Snape and each time they had been together, especially the recent times. She was humming while floating the tome in front of her when Harry came home.

"Hermione?" Harry said loudly, and the book fell to the ground.

"Harry, don't startle me like that," she snapped and then giggled.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Why are you still up?"

"I can't get off the sofa," she replied, giggling so hard she toppled over.

Harry approached her and scowled at the half-empty bottle on the floor. "Been drinking? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," she replied, struggling to straighten up. "Did you know that you can't drink away your problems? Firewhisky only makes you think on exactly what you're trying to not think about."

Harry shook his head. "C'mon, let's get you to bed," he said, pulling her up.

Hermione was leaning against Harry, mentally comparing his height to Severus. "You're shorter than Severus, you know that?" Hermione observed, noting also the similarity of Harry's shoulders as compared to Severus'. She stumbled, and Harry picked her up to carry her.

"A bit, the man is nearly six feet," he replied.

"And he's like you are," Hermione stated. "Long, lean, strong muscles..."

"I never really wanted to know that," he said, kicking her door open.

"Why aren't I attracted to Ron like I am Severus?" she asked as he carefully dropped her on the bed. "Why can't Ron kiss me like Severus can?"

Harry was slipping her shoes off and setting them on the floor. "Geeze, Hermione, I don't know – never kissed either of them, so I couldn't tell you."

"Severus is a really good kisser," she said wistfully. "And oh, Merlin, he's got good hands."

"Again, I didn't need to know that," Harry said, trying to pull off her robe.

"But he doesn't want me, and Maggie says I have to annul him, and Marvin wants to reverse us." Hermione said, babbling uncontrollably. "I just need someone to talk to who would simply tell me what to do so I can decide. And Kingsley – he wants me to tell him what I want to do? I don't know what I want to do. How can I know what to do? He hates me!"

Harry laid her robe across a chair and sat down next to her. "Hermione, I don't think he hates you."

"Oh, yes he does! He hates me. We never talk, only shag," she confessed, feeling her eyes well up with tears. "He's harsh and distant and doesn't care at all. It's not – nice, and I feel like... like a whore."

"Hermione, you're not a whore," he said patiently.

She pointed a finger at him. "Ginny and Luna told me he'd come around, start to like me. He doesn't. I trapped him you know – forced this on him and... and... he hates me for it."

Harry brushed her hair off her shoulder and leaned closer to look at her face. "Is it that bad?"

Hermione nodded and began to cry.

"Hermione?"

"I don't know what to do. We never talk. He doesn't want to talk. He only wants to shag. I liked shagging with him when he was in jail, and in the dreams he was incredible – it was really good, but in real life he's – he's not." Tears ran down her cheek unchecked. "Everyone says he's going to come around and we'll work out – but what if he can't come around? What if he's just too mean and hateful and wants out? He keeps saying he wants the annulment – then he wants to shag! And he was really mad when I slept at George's! George said things are better than I think they are – but they aren't! I tried to be loving, do what he wanted, be supportive – but what if it... I failed!" At this, she started to cry again.

"You didn't fail, Hermione. It takes two to make a relationship work." Harry sighed and held her, letting her cry on his shoulder. "I knew things would take a while to sort out, and he's been in prison, going through his trial and everything. I suppose you two haven't been able to have the time to..." He handed her a handkerchief, and Hermione blew her nose. With a flick of his wand, it was clean again. "... sort things out properly. Of course, we are talking about Severus Snape. I don't suppose he'd be amiable to anyone."

"Did you know I've always respected him? I kind of looked up to him. I thought he was stoic and brave – doing all that for the Order – but he's really just cold and snarly and mean." She looked up at Harry. "I'm married to him. My snarky professor, the greasy git, the bat of the dungeons... and that spell matched me to him!"

"I know. I was really shocked when you told me. But Ginny told me about this Moon-Song Spell and how it works and all..." he said. "I dunno why you girls did this, but you did. It worked out great for Gin and me, and Luna and Neville – maybe it's Snape who's failing you. Did you think about that? He's being a git, hurting you, making you feel bad about yourself when it's his fault. Instead of trying to get things straightened out – he's making you feel miserable." He tipped her chin to look at her face. "If you like, I'll have a word with him."

"No, he'll hex you." Hermione hugged him. "You're right, Harry. Thank you. You're right."

"I'll have Kreacher bring you Headache and Hangover Potions when you wake up, okay?" he asked, rubbing her back. "Things will look better in the morning."

~MoM~

That Monday, Maggie Whitmire paced in her office. Her request to speak to the Minister had been denied, again! Her job was a very important one. She kept the files of all unions, marriages, and Bondings, recorded all magical births and deaths in the United Kingdom Wizarding world. Without her, there wouldn't be a proper record at all. She walked past the elegant gilded table that held the Marriage and Magical Unions ledger, the Birth Registration ledger, and the Obituary and Life Termination register. The quills, red, green, and black, hovered over the pages, the green quill writing down the name of a newborn child presently, while the black quill stilled after recording the passing of a Melissa Isabella Carothers. Maggie sighed as she read the noted cause of death. "Cessation. 124. Home, with husband and daughter present. Poor old dear."

She wrote out a nice letter to inform Hulbert Warrington of the Daily Prophet and Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of The Quibbler, of the unfortunate demise of Melissa Isabella Carothers, being sure to get the exact time of death in her letter. It was required of her to be precise in her line of work. As soon as the green quill stilled over the Birth Registration ledger, Maggie wrote another letter to the journalists. That delightful part of her duties done, Maggie flicked her finger over the files still pending on her desk.

Of the thirteen files, only one had a red ribbon binding it and a ministry seal, the paperwork still pending. The registration of the Bonding was still under the Minister's 'hold' and was waiting for the conformation from Mrs. Hermione Granger-Snape and Severus Snape. Maggie scowled. She didn't approve of hyphenated names. The extension provided Mrs. Granger-Snape an undefined period of time to either request the annulment or for signing the appropriate forms. Maggie hated loose ends. This should have been resolved weeks ago. Just because Mrs. Granger-Snape is a war hero and a friend to Mr. Potter and the Minister shouldn't mean the insipid girl can simply do things whenever she pleases. There is a proper time for things to be done. Such insolence!

She picked up a letter that had arrived that day, smiling at the beautiful penmanship of Rita Skeeter. Maggie was delighted to be a personal acquaintance with such a respected and renowned witch. Now here is a witch that truly understands the importance of my job.

She pulled out her quill and drafted another note:

Dearest Rita Skeeter,

Magical Marriage and Birth Registration Office of the Magical Licenses and Certificates Department

Maggie checked the table with the ledgers again before leaving her office to head to the owlery to make sure there wasn't another important announcement to be drafted. The three quills hovered quietly. Shrugging, she turned to go.

~H~

Late the next morning, Hermione returned from a visit with Kingsley in his office, carrying the annulment forms from Mr. Maretbell of the Magical Reversal office in her pocket. She hurried across the house, running up the stairs, and threw herself onto her bed to cry. Moments later, there was a soft knock on her door. "Hermione?" Ginny asked, entering cautiously.

"Well, I did it," Hermione stated after turning her head slightly. "I picked up the forms..."

Ginny walked over and sat on the bed. "Are you sure about this?"

"No." Hermione rolled onto her side, feeling downcast. "But I think it's best – don't you?"

"I dunno? I mean, I've never known the spell to go this wrong before," she admitted.

"You've never known anyone who got stuck with Severus Snape, either," Hermione said, feeling a huge ache deep in her gut.

~ T B C ~>

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