Chapter 2

Chapter 2

AN: Many thanks to my invaluable betas, septentrion and JunoMagic.

*

Severus watched as Hermione dragged a hand across her face and rubbed at her eyes.

"Let me get this straight," she said through clenched teeth, "the Wizengamot, in all their wisdom, have decreed that in order for the Wizarding population to recover, everyone has to get married. Because there are too few witches of child-bearing age compared to wizards, that means every witch has to marry two wizards. What about marrying Muggles?"

"While not outlawed, it is not encouraged, for reasons to do with the Statute of Secrecy. I doubt many wizards would be keen to marry Muggles anyway, even if it means they have to share a witch instead."

Hermione was staring at him, her face pale, lips compressed into a thin line. "You said 'wizards'. What about witches?"

For a moment Severus did not understand what she meant until she elaborated.

"Are witches allowed to marry Muggles?"

He had to think for a moment. Most of what he knew of the law was restricted to how it would affect him, but he had vaguely noted what Hermione was asking about. "No. The purpose of this law is not just to encourage reproduction but also to prevent wizards fighting over witches."

Two spots of colour had appeared in her cheeks and her eyes glittered. "Obviously a committee decision," Hermione muttered darkly, a hint of a tremor in her voice. "No single person could be that stupid."

Severus frowned, not quite understanding her point. It was unfair that witches had less say than wizards in whom they married, but the Wizengamot didn't have much choice if they wanted to keep the peace.

"As if there won't be bloodshed between wizards anyway! I'd bet my life that some women will be in higher demand than others. What wizard would marry a witch like, oh, Dolores Umbridge, if they could have a beauty like Fleur Delacour? No, bad example, she's Fleur Weasley now."

"Actually, those already married will have to marry a second husband. But you are right that some witches will be in demand," Severus admitted, looking intently at Hermione. She blushed, opening her mouth to say something, but the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps distracted her.

They both looked towards the door as it swung open, banging on its hinges. Ronald Weasley skidded inside, dropping to one knee as soon as he saw Hermione.

"I came as soon as I heard you'd recovered," he blurted. "Marry me, Hermione!" He fumbled in his pocket, tugging out a ring. It slipped out of his hands, rolling across the floor to stop beside Severus's feet. Weasley swore and crawled over to retrieve it. Only when his fingers closed around the ring, did he look up and register Severus's presence.

Weasley scrambled to his feet, staggering slightly when his nose almost bashed against Severus's knee. "What're you doing here, Snape?" he demanded, standing up unnaturally straight in a crude attempt to intimidate Severus by looming over him.

Twisting his lips into a sneer, Severus rose as well. Although he was shorter than Weasley, the boy still unconsciously stepped back. "Unlike some people," he said, looking pointedly at Weasley, "I have full clearance to access all areas of St. Mungo's without falling back on war hero status."

His ears flushing red, Weasley glared at Severus. Before he could say anything, Hermione spoke from the bed, where she was sitting bolt upright.

"How dare you." Her voice was trembling, angry tears sliding down her cheeks. Weasley looked smugly at Severus for a moment, until the nasty smile was wiped off his face with Hermione's next words. "How could you, Ron? Jumping at the first chance this fucking law gives you, taking advantage of this mess like a ... like a Malfoy!"

"Hey, it's not like that!" Weasley protested, freckled skin mottling further as the flush spread from his ears to his cheeks.

Severus intervened before he could say any more, drawing his wand and jabbing it into the boy's chest to make him stagger back. "Get out. I will not have you upsetting her."

Weasley made as if to draw his own wand, only to refrain when he looked beyond Severus, presumably at Hermione. Not taking his eyes off Weasley, Severus could only guess that Weasley was realising exactly how angry and upset Hermione was, and that if he stayed to argue she would lose what little control she had on her temper ... and take it out on the hapless boy.

"A word, Snape."

Wondering what Weasley could have to say, Severus inclined his head slightly, motioning with his wand for Weasley to lead the way out of the ward. He paused to make sure Hermione had a glass of water before following Weasley.

Once out in the corridor, Severus cast Muffliato before returning his wand to the pocket in his robes. "Well?" he asked expectantly, crossing his arms.

With Severus's wand no longer pointing at him, Weasley had found his bravado, and puffed out his chest. "Stay away from my girl!"

Laughing derisively, Severus shook his head in disbelief. "You couldn't intimidate a homesick first year Hufflepuff, Weasley," he sneered. "Furthermore, Hermione is not your girl."

His freckles nearly invisible beneath his angry flush, Weasley took a step towards Severus. "She's my girlfriend! When she calms down a bit, she'll be my fiancée."

"On the contrary, I think you will find she is not and will not be." Severus felt an unexpected pang of pity for the increasingly confused young man. "Weasley, she can't remember anything since the defeat of Voldemort. An unfortunate side effect of the cure."

Weasley's jaw dropped. It took a while for him to find his voice, opening and closing his mouth. The first noises he made were incoherent splutters. "Wh-what?" he finally managed to stutter. Then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What did you do to her? You invented the cure, so you must have done something." His hand twitched, as if to move for his wand.

"Would you rather she had died? Memory loss is apparently the price to be paid for the cure. And for your information," Severus snapped, prodding his finger into Weasley's skinny chest to emphasise his point, "I knew nothing of this until today."

"Whatever," Weasley muttered, brushing Severus's hand away. "I suppose I should thank you. This means she doesn't remember being your 'friend'." He twisted his face into a sneer, an expression that he could have done with practicing in a mirror. "Mark my words, Snape: this time she won't want anything to do with a creep like you. She's mine." He turned to leave.

Reaching out, Severus grabbed the back of his shirt. Weasley shrugged him off, twisting around with his fists clenched as if contemplating fighting like a Muggle.

"I presume you have heard about this new law," Severus drawled. "A witch with qualities like Hermione possesses will be in high demand. I suggest you brush up on your duelling skills, boy, if you seriously intend to claim her."

"I knew it! You want her for yourself." Weasley was fumbling for his wand.

Severus re-crossed his arms, his dominant hand within easy reach of his wand. "Even if that were the case, it is Hermione's choice which suitors she accepts. Not yours. If you value your life, you will not attempt to dictate to her."

Weasley pulled his wand out, his lips forming a hex. Before he could finish casting the spell, his wand leaped from his hand onto the floor with a clatter.

Smirking, Severus removed his hand from his pocket, and motioned with his wand for Weasley to pick his wand up.

"Fool. I was not threatening you, simply stating that as angry as Hermione is with you, it would not be advisable to rile her further. If you have any sense, you will not darken her door until she has both calmed down and been released from hospital."

"Fine," Weasley spat, shoved his wand into his pocket, and stormed off.

* * *

Hermione had been brought up to know that ladies did not eavesdrop. But as far as she was concerned, a woman was only a lady when it was convenient. Furthermore, she was far too angry to care about her own bad manners. So when Snape had followed Ron, Hermione had got out of bed and padded over to the closing door just in time to be included in the range of Snape's spell.

With her ear pressed to the door, Hermione overheard the entire conversation. She'd thought that she couldn't be angrier with Ron, only to discover that wasn't the case. Her blood was boiling in her veins, her heartbeat so loud in her ears that it nearly drowned out the argument in the corridor outside. More than once she'd had to keep herself from either bursting through the door to confront the red-headed idiot or making a sound and giving herself away. She suspected that Snape had probably heard her unsteady breathing, but that was no reason to make sure he knew she was there.

It was just as well that Ron made so much noise making his exit, his feet thundering down the corridor, otherwise she might still have been standing against the door by the time Snape opened it.

The door swung open as she tugged the covers back over herself. It was only when she was in the still-warm bed that she noticed how cold she'd managed to get while eavesdropping. Although it was difficult for her to tell whether she was shivering more out of cold or trembling with rage.

Crossing the room to sit down again, Snape eyed her in the same cautious way she had looked at the majority of the beasts in Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

"I hoped that removing the charming Mr Weasley from your presence would help calm you." Snape reached over and placed his hand over hers, his skin warming hers. "He's not worth endangering your health, Hermione."

She stared down at his hand, wondering how close they had been before she became ill. For such a taciturn man, he certainly seemed comfortable with her. Perhaps Ron's obvious jealousy of Snape hadn't been unfounded ....

Looking up, she established eye contact before asking: "What was between us, Severus? Were we ..." She hesitated, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. "Were we lovers?"

Snape's hand twitched against hers, his face briefly showing a flicker of some sort of feeling before it closed down into inscrutability. "No, we were just friends." His control didn't extend to his voice; there was a clearly wistful tone in it, at least to Hermione's ears.

"There's nothing to stop us from being friends again, Severus," she said, briefly biting her lip before overcoming her nervousness and continuing, "In fact, I'd certainly like us to be." She looked away, her cheeks burning. While the most recent memory she had of Snape was his death – well, near death – and the revelation that he wasn't a traitor, she felt that she could trust him ... and liked this new side of Snape she was seeing.

Snape's fingers gently brushed across the back of her hand, drawing her gaze back up to meet his. He smiled slightly. "I would like that, too," he murmured, his smile fading as he regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment. He slowly withdrew his hand, the corners of his mouth turning down.

"Do you intend to go back to where you were with Weasley? He was your ..." Snape seemed to be struggling to find the right word, or perhaps that struggle was something else entirely ....

Hermione felt a strange jolt in the region of her heart, almost as if it had leapt, a ridiculous notion. But the idea that a man like Severus Snape might feel more than just friendship for her was flattering to say the least.

"My boyfriend? I thought as much," she said, taking pity on Snape's struggle. Unfortunately, that inevitably meant thinking of Ron and awakening the anger that had begun to subside. "As far as I'm concerned, all there was between Ronald and I was a single kiss in the heat of battle. He has another thing coming if he thinks I'd marry him even if I did remember everything up until I fell ill."

"Much as I think that you can do better than Ronald Weasley, you should not let your anger dictate your choices," Snape said. Something in the tone of his voice indicated to Hermione that he was speaking from his own experience. He stood up, tight-lipped, his eyes never leaving her face.

"I will do what I can to bring your missing memories back," he said eventually. Whatever he had told Ron earlier about the side effect of the cure, he clearly felt responsible. "I cannot stay any longer, but I will visit when I can."

He left the room before Hermione had a chance to say goodbye or ask for some reading material. Flopping back onto the bed, she sighed heavily. She wasn't entirely sure that she wanted her missing memories back, or deserved to have them back in the first place, come to think of it. Her usage of Memory Charms during the war had been for good reasons, and in most cases with underlying good intentions, but ...

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, young lady. You must learn to bear in mind the consequences of your actions."

Hermione grimaced. She hadn't learned anything – that had been her lecture from her parents when she'd managed to smash their best crockery at the age of six in an attempt to set the table for dinner all by herself.

Her parents ... what had become of them? Had she been able to restore their memories of her and brought them back from Australia? And what about Crookshanks, left behind at the Burrow so long ago?

She rolled over onto her side, swallowing hard against the rising, choking guilt. As she stared towards the wall, her view blurred with tears. Her first thoughts on waking had been for herself. 'Selfish!' She didn't deserve her own memories back, but if she could, and if Snape – Severus – would let her, she would help to restore the memories of the other patients.

* * *

"Severus, such an unexpected pleasure," Lucius called from the dimly lit landing where he stood, recognising his visitor, who had been terrorising one of his house-elves. "You will stay for dinner? Dilly, inform the kitchen elves that I have a guest."

The house-elf bowed, and was about to do as ordered when Severus shook his head.

"No, I must decline. I came only to tell you that I have decided."

That got Lucius's attention. "Who?" he asked, advancing downstairs, almost missing a step when Severus named the witch.

"Hermione Granger."

Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised, Lucius mused, his thoughts almost racing as he stared down at Severus. While his friend had been close-mouthed on the subject, Lucius had gathered that Granger had somehow finagled her way into being one of the few people Severus called 'friend'.

Carefully watching where he was stepping, Lucius finished descending and walked over to where Severus was standing beside the door. "I was under the impression that she was being courted by the youngest Weasley boy. Not that it matters, of course," he said, in an attempt to cover his surprise. The slightly amused gleam in Severus's eyes told him that he was unsuccessful.

"She has an unfortunate heritage," Lucius murmured, carefully choosing his words, since he was aware of Severus's touchiness regarding the 'M' word. "But she is certainly powerful and influential. A good choice." If a difficult one when it came to charming and courting the girl himself, but he was not averse to the challenge.

He very carefully kept his thoughts away from what ... From what Narcissa would think. She was dead. Now he had to live on without her, regaining his lost influence. If he had to marry a famous Mudblood to accomplish that, so be it.

Severus nodded, a brisk gesture that implied an underlying sense of impatience. "Indeed. But I would advise against pursuing her immediately, as I witnessed her rage at Weasley's proposal earlier on today. She needs time to calm down and accustom herself to the situation she finds herself in, before we approach her."

"Very well," Lucius said. He reached out to lay a hand on Severus's shoulder as the man made a move towards the door. "But that is no reason not to put others off pursuing her, like the Weasley whelps. They are scions of an old pure-blood family, they will respond to a challenge to settle the matter with a duel."

Severus spun around, shrugging off the hand that restrained him. "Lucius, no. I know Hermione, and she will not appreciate being duelled over."

"She doesn't need to know." Lucius smiled. He bared his teeth in a winning grin, unaware of how much that made him look like a shark. "You'll be my second, won't you?"

Severus heaved an exasperated sigh and scowled.

"Excellent, I knew that I could count on you," Lucius purred, and clapped his newly acquired duelling chum on the shoulder.