Marriage Law

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 14

Chapter 14 ~ The Return

Two days later, Hermione was released from the infirmary and returned to her and Severus’ rooms. She didn’t return to classes, however, being instructed by Pomfrey to rest a few more days before resuming her daily regime. Her first day back, she a mass visitation of many of her Gryffindor housemates descended on her, and her small kitchen was filled to overflowing. She received belated birthday presents and cards. She wasn’t in the mood for either and tried to put on a strong front but it was all so overwhelming. She just wanted to be left alone. Severus still hadn’t returned and four days had passed. She was worried about him, but no one else seemed to care. Everyone was happy and joking all around her, talking about her imminent return to the Gryffindor fold, a free woman. As usual, Ron was the catalyst that made the cauldron boil over.

“Hey ‘Mione, now you can drop the Snape surname and move back to Gryffindor house. Want me to help you pack?” he had asked her in front of the rest of her guests. He was serious.

“No, Ron. Not right now,” Hermione replied. She didn’t want to talk about leaving when Severus hadn’t yet returned.

“Why not? You don’t have to wait for the git to come back. He knows you’re out of here. You don’t need him anymore,” Ron said, “The marriage law’s been repealed.”

“I know, Ron. I…I just don’t want to leave before he comes back,” she said quietly. Ron was rankling her.

“Why not?” Ron asked, “It’s not like he’s going to miss you or anything. You should be glad to get out of here.”

Hermione scowled at him.

“Get out of here to do what, Ron? Listen to you talk about Quidditch for hours, or help everybody with their homework assignments, or listen to Ginny gush about wizards all day? Not that I mind that sometimes, but it’s tiresome. I never knew how tiresome it was until I moved here,” Hermione said, her lower lip trembling.

Ron looked at her as if she had grown another set of legs. Everybody else was completely silent. Hermione drew in a deep breath and continued, deciding to let them all know how she felt.

“I like it here, Ron. I have my own rooms and the Professor is excellent company. He’s knowledgeable, intelligent, and witty. He’s quiet too. I can actually get my work done without someone disturbing me every five minutes. I can have a decent, intelligent conversation or debate with him about important ideas and interesting topics. He’s doesn’t tell me I read too much or I need to lighten up because I am too serious about my studies. He supports me learning and growing. He doesn’t think I’m a bookworm. He doesn’t fight with me over insignificant things or try tell me what to do, like you do,” she said, looking at Ron accusingly. “He treats me with respect.”

Ron just stared at her, his mouth slightly open.

“And now, he’s gone. For all I know he’s badly hurt somewhere or dead because of me. I don’t know…but wherever he is, he’s there because of me. This might have been a marriage of convenience, but he held up his end of it as best as he could and I’m not going to leave these rooms until I know what’s happened to him. I’m still Mrs. Snape, and I belong here until the marriage is officially over. And here’s where I’m going to stay. If you don’t like that Ronald Weasley, then it’s just too fucking bad!”

Hermione rose from the kitchen table stiffly, and walked toward her bedroom, leaving her wide-eyed guests staring after her. She paused at the door and turned to look at all of them, her eyes wet.

“And I tell you something else, Ronald, and the rest of you. Going back to Gryffindor House is not the joyful occasion for me you think it should be. Professor Snape might not miss me, but when I leave here, I’m sure going to miss him!” she said, then ran into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

The stunned students all looked at each other. Ginny stared after Hermione.

“I think we should go, and give her some time alone. She’s just come back and, well, her husband is missing…” Ginny said quietly.

“Her husband?” Ron said angrily, “He’s not really her husband. This was all arranged, just set up. There’s nothing between them but his bloody name!”

His sister looked at him as the other students filed out of the kitchen heading for the exit.

“Ron, you are so unbelievably stupid sometimes. Didn’t you just hear her say she would miss him when she left here? That means she has feelings for him, you idiot,” Ginny said, frowning at her git of a brother.

“No…no…she’s just upset about everything. Once she gets back to Gryffindor House…and gets used to being around us again…” he began.

“I don’t think she’s going to come back, Ron. I really think she’s going to stay with the Professor and be his wife, for real,” Ginny said, looking in the direction Hermione disappeared.

Ron’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. Finally some words formed.

“She wouldn’t…she couldn’t…if she were going to be his wife for real, that means she’d have to…”

“Shag him,” Ginny finished for him, a small smirk on her face.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Ron said, holding his stomach and leaving the kitchen.

Ginny took one more look towards Hermione’s bedroom, and followed her brother out. She knew her friend needed time. More than that, she needed the Potions Master.

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Hermione had cried herself to sleep, and woke up about ten o’clock at night. She was still dressed in her clothes and walked into the kitchen. Her gifts were still on the table as well as the wrappings. She’d have to clean up, but didn’t feel like it now. Her rooms felt different. She knew it was because she knew that the Potions Master wasn’t next door. His presence was a comfort, even when he wasn’t physically with her. She missed him very much.

Hermione picked up her wand, opened her rooms door and entered Severus’ study. The fire had gone out, another sign he wasn’t there. He always kept the fire lit. She pointed her wand at the grate.

“Incendio,” she breathed, starting a fire.

She walked over to the fireplace and sat down in the chair that Severus used, curling up, her face pressed against the back of it. It smelled of spices and sandalwood. Like he did. She breathed deeply and sat there quietly. She began to wish that there had been something more between them now. If he were dead because of her, it would have been a comfort to know that he had at least known her intimately like he wanted to. Hermione realized that she did have feelings for him, and it really wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to go further. He was kind to her, and respectful as far as he could be respectful. And he was attractive to her as a man.

The attraction was something that had developed as she grew to know him. Not anything rushed or frenzied like described in romance novels, but something that slowly blossomed as they argued over French toast and syrup, or discussed some obscure book she’d found. He was multi-dimensional, experienced…he had more than surface. The Potions Master ran deep. He had layers that had developed over time, unlike the boys at Hogwarts. Plus, he was a hero, selfless, courageous, his life on the line every moment of every day. Severus had risked the wrath of the Dark Lord marrying her. And although he had made it quite plain that he wanted her in his bed, he never tried to force or cajole her. Never tried to touch her in an intimate way. He had ceased to bring women home too. So he had made changes for her too, though he never brought it up.

Above all Severus was a private man, and reserved. But he opened up to her in the privacy of the rooms. She discovered he could laugh, and did so often when she was ranting about some point of an argument until red in the face. He was private, but he had let her in.

“It’s not fair,” Hermione thought miserably, knocking her head against the back of the chair lightly. “It’s not fair how people realize the truth of a matter after the chance to put it to use has passed.”

Suddenly, she heard a thunder crack and sat up. Thunder crack? She was down in the dungeons. You couldn’t hear thunder crack down here!

Hermione leapt off the chair and ran through the study to Severus’ bedroom, freezing as she clung to the doorway.

There on the floor, lying on his back, was Severus. A broken, badly beaten and barely breathing Severus. Hermione ran to him, dropping on the floor by his head. He smelled like a slaughterhouse and was shirtless and barefoot, bruised from head to toe, his body covered in dried blood, oozing cuts and gashes. His pants were also crusted and stuck to him with old blood, brown flakes falling on the floor beneath him. Yet, he breathed shallowly. How was he still alive?

He groaned.

Torn between trying to comfort him and contacting someone, Hermione ran to the floo and threw some floo powder.

“Headmaster’s office!” she cried, then “Headmaster, Severus is back and he’s badly hurt! Please come!”

“I’m on my way. Let me notify Pomfrey,” the Headmaster called back.

Hermione ran back over to the ruined Potions Master and lifted his head gently and placed it on her lap. He groaned again.

“Severus? Severus, you’re back. You made it,” she said to him softly, stroking his bruised brow. His eyes were badly swollen but he managed to open them. He looked at her, and they brightened.

“Hermione,” he breathed.

“Yes, Severus…I’m here,” she said.

Severus coughed, and his body shuddered with pain. He grimaced, then looked up at her again.

“Lucius is dead,” he whispered.

Hermione didn’t say anything, just continued to stroke his brow, her eyes filling as his condition settled into her psyche.

“You poor thing,” she said to him, “How did you ever survive this?”

The Potions Master made an odd sound, almost like a weak chuckle. It had to hurt him. He said something. Hermione couldn’t hear him.

“What Severus?” she asked him, leaning closer. His breathing became a bit more labored.

“I still have to fuck you,” he said weakly.

Hermione could have laughed if the situation wasn’t so horrible. So what kept him alive was the thought of fucking her. Talk about incentive. She stroked his temple tenderly.

“After all you’ve gone through for me, Severus, I think you may have earned that right,” she replied softly through her tears.

The Potions Master seemed to relax then, his breathing evening out. He closed his eyes.

Hermione continued to hold him, stroking his temple gently until help arrived.