Troublesome

The Real Chapter Ten


The small box in his hand felt heavy, considering it only weighed a few grams, nothing more, and nothing less. It felt as though it weighed tons, like it was crushing the bones in his hands. Why on earth had he bought the wretched thing? He could hardly find the means to buy himself a new pair of shoes, so why had he gone out and spent a good chunk of two months worth of salary on it?

He felt stupid.

He should have known that Evelyn wouldn’t want to marry him of all people. She’d want a good looking man, a man who made more than a professor. She’d want to marry some one like Draco Malfoy, the little blond idiot.

Every time he saw Draco in the hallway, it took it out of him to resist the urge to give him a good wallop on the head for what he’d done to Evelyn, his Evelyn. She was, after all, carrying his child, so that gave him at least some sort of possession over her, didn’t it?

No, that wasn’t right.

Evelyn was anything but a possession, and he’d do well to stop thinking that way about her.

It was so wonderful to have her back with him, where she belonged.

It wasn’t right the way she made him feel. He felt like he’d lost his wind every time she walked into the room, with that glow about her. He even found himself day dreaming about her like some form of a sissy school boy, which he most certainly was not. He was a man, men don’t day dream about dotty girls and he’d do well to remember that.

Curse her!

He didn’t feel like himself at all anymore and he’d give anything to go back in time so he could tell her no, she can’t make up her stupid paper, and no he didn’t care about the way her parents would marry her off if she made one failing grade.

But he was growing older by the day, there was no stopping that, and perhaps now it was time to settle down, though he wasn’t sure how he could possibly be more settled. He was expecting a child of all things. He’d never expected that. Perhaps becoming a father wouldn’t necessarily mean that he had to start being nice to the students. Oh no, nothing could take away the pleasure of making their lives miserable. Really, it was the best way to channel his misery, by being a “miserable old bat” like the students like to call him. He was just that, in fact. He preferred it that way.

No, it was stupid to want to marry her.

He didn’t want to marry her.

But he sort of did, as well. Why else would he have gone off and bought a stupid ring? Why else would he have been disappointed when she said no at first?

He opened the box and stared at the ring. It sparkled slightly but it was nothing over the top. Evelyn wasn’t the type of person who lusted after pretty expensive knickknacks. She came from a rich family so she wasn’t wanting for anything. But still, it felt a little drab. He closed the box with a sharp snap, and placed it in his desk drawer. It would remain there until Evelyn gave him a straight answer. If she flat out declined, it’d stay there anyway, as a reminder.

***
As soon as Evelyn had finished her supper, the only thing she could think about was her head hitting the pillow and getting a good nights rest for once. All though school had only started two months previously, Evelyn’s work load been almost monstrous and she could hardly find the time to sleep, what with all of the studying for the constant quizzes the Professor’s were constantly drilling them with. At that moment, she couldn’t really give a care if she failed the N.E.W.T’s. Carrying around the extra weight did not help anything, though Professor Snape had enchanted her school uniforms with some sort of disillusionment charm so at least no one was talking behind her back. But her bed was calling her, and she would heed its call.

Just as she was about to enter the common room, she heard some one approach her from behind. She felt a light tap on her shoulder and inwardly groaned, hoping that who ever it was would not take too much of her time. She was tired and pregnant, damn it. The person who had tapped her on the shoulder turned out to be a first year, and Evelyn couldn’t help but be a little short with him.

“What?” She snapped, and the first year recoiled. Evelyn didn’t care.

“Professor Snape wants to see you in his office,” the boy said. As soon as he passed the message along, he ran off down the corridor, apparently scared of her. Evelyn sighed heavily and trudged towards the office, knowing what the Professor wanted, and to be quite frank, she was not in the mood to deal with it and made the fact clear upon entering his office.

She sat heavily in her usual spot in the chair in front of his desk. She wouldn’t have been surprised if her buttocks had been permanently imprinted in the seat.

“Make it quick, I want to go to bed,” she said as she propped her chin on her hand and began to close her eyes. Oh sweet merciful Jesus, it felt wonderful.

“I’m sure you know what this is about, Miss Hewitt,” the Professor said, his voice clear and full of purpose. Evelyn was snapped out of her near sleep when she heard a drawer open and close. “You can’t avoid this forever, Evelyn. I need a straight answer.”

In his hand, was a small leather box, and Evelyn sobered up at once. She knew he was going to do this, but she hadn’t expected a ring. It was sort of sweet, actually.

“Ah, God, Professor!” She groaned, her hands covering her face. The idea didn’t seem as horrible as it had two weeks previously, after she’d thought on it some. At least her child would have a family and really it was her fault they were in this situation, after seeing Snape’s memories. They didn’t seem real, but she did remember thinking before she’d approached him about her grade that he wasn’t so bad looking, if he didn’t scowl so much. That hadn’t necessarily meant that she wanted to screw him and end up pregnant with his kid. He was smart enough, she supposed, but she had wanted to marry some one who loved her and she didn’t know if the Potion’s Master was capable of that. She’d managed to melt him enough to let her in before, and he had said he was fond of her, so maybe there was a chance that she could win him over after all. Evelyn was in no position to be picky, and she knew this, but she still had her doubts.

“I will not beg you, but I will ask that you look at the advantages to my offer and the consequences that come with saying no,” he said, his voice now a timid whisper. She could see that he was worried, the way he frowned. Him worrying about what she would say had to mean something right?

“You’re not going to quit bugging me until I say yes,” she said, dully. “It would be better if I said yes but I still have my doubts. Oh, I hate having to think like an adult now. I miss being able to be a mindless teenager.”

“Yes, well considering the circumstances, those days are over and you have to face reality. I grow impatient.”

“I’ll say yes if you ask me properly,” Evelyn said.

“I’m not going to bend down on one knee and proclaim my love for you,” he said, making a face.

“I didn’t ask for that, I just want you to ask me.”

“Marry me.”

“That wasn’t asking. That was demanding.”

“That’s as good as its going to get, Miss Hewitt, don’t push your luck.”

Evelyn sighed. It just wouldn’t get any easier would it? No, that’d be asking for too bloody much.

“Fine, I accept, now can I please leave, I’m tired.”

“You don’t want to celebrate?” His eyebrow was raised, as though he were surprised. What did he want a fucking blow job for badgering her into marrying him? It would be ironic, but Evelyn was not a big fan of irony.

“Honestly I’d like to celebrate by getting some much needed sleep, if you don’t mind.”

“I thought maybe we could have a glass of wine, a small toast if you will.”

“No offense, well maybe I do mean to offend, but I don’t think this is something we should celebrate. I don’t want to celebrate. I’ve been carrying around a boulder in my body and to be quite honest, it’s making me very cranky. You insisting we celebrate won’t improve my mood.”

With little emotion he said, “You’re dismissed.”

Evelyn didn’t care about the ring which is why when she left, she didn’t take it. She rather thought that perhaps he could have spent it on something a little more practical, and definitely not on her.

Once she was comfortable in the dorm, Evelyn laid down in bed, hoping that blissful sleep would soon take over her sense, so she would see nothing and she would know nothing. But just as she felt herself about to drift off into another plane, rogue thoughts would cross her brain and suddenly she’d be awake again. This annoyed her, considering she was so tired, and when her dorm mates came crashing in at midnight, Evelyn felt like cursing them to dust. Even if she couldn’t sleep, she rather enjoyed the silence, but soon the silence took over again, annoying Evelyn even further because all of the other girls could sleep, and she couldn’t. They didn’t have to go through half of what she had to go through and yet they were rewarded with rest. After what seemed an eternity, Evelyn finally drifted off fully but only to be woken again what seemed to be like seconds later by an alarm clock.

No, it just wouldn’t get easier, not for her. She deserved every bad thing that had happened to her. After all, that doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, she thought.

***

It was Saturday, a week before December, when Severus made his way to the Ministry of Magic. Of course there were other things he’d rather be doing, but this held the most important slot on his agenda and it was the errand he wanted to make first, the sooner the better.

As he approached the Domestic Department in the lift, his heart began to pound. He was nervous, he’d admit it, but he’d never done anything like this before and when he pictured it, it was for some one else.

He stepped off the lift and wound his way around busy Ministry workers in their cubicles, before he found the office he was looking for at the back of the room. A small bronze plate read “LUCILLE ZIFF DIRECTOR OF DOMESTIC RELATIONS”. Severus knocked heavily and the door clicked open. The office upon entry looked like any normal run of the mill office, but at a closer glance he could see all of the personal effects, like pictures of children running around in frames and decorative personal knick knacks, like a small red velvet couch with knitted throw pillows that bared stitched in words like, “Home is where the heart is,” and “An elf in the tree is no elf at all.”

“Why, hello Severus, or should I call you Professor Snape,” an elderly witch was sitting behind a desk, a bright smile on her face upon seeing who her visitor was. Severus was all too well acquainted with her as he’d met with her several times before. “This certainly is a surprise. Would you like some tea?” The woman lifted her wand and pointed it at an antique tea set that was sitting on a shelf, but Severus promptly shook his head.

“I’m afraid I’m here on business, I can’t stay very long,” he said. Lucille sat her wand down and the already levitating tea pot was set gently back in place.

“What can I do for you today, Professor?” Severus shifted his feet, not really sure how to go about requesting the proper documents. “This isn’t about the Tournament is it? I can’t help you there I’m afraid, you’ll have to go to the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

“No, I should have rephrased that. I’m here on personal business. I’m wondering if you could possibly tell me where I might be able to obtain a marriage contract and certificate.”

“Are you getting married, Severus Snape?” Lucille said with a knowing smile on her face. Severus could have killed him self. He should have gone to some one he did not know.

“No,” he said promptly. “Some one I know is and they asked if I could get the documents for them. The betrothed couple has been too busy to do it themselves; weddings take a lot of work. I’d thought I’d do them a personal favor.”

Lucille nodded her head and began to rummage through her desk drawer. She found a folder that seemed to be stuffed with copies of paper and began sorting through them before she finally produced two documents. She held out the first one for him to look at and put a pair of glasses on. She was no longer Lucy, the family friend; she was Lucille Ziff, the professional. Severus had to admire her work ethic.

“This one is for the Ministry. Now they’re going to need a witness that is not related to either party to sign as well. It’s nothing personal, just procedure. After they’ve done that, they need to send it in to a Mister Troy Meagher, who will put it into the system and file it.” She handed him the piece of paper. She held the second piece of paper out for him to look over. “This is the actual marriage certificate itself. Once both parties have signed, it will be automatically documented.”

Severus took it from her as well, and stuffed it in a large envelope that he’d brought along with him. He didn’t want people to see him carrying around a marriage certificate. He thanked Lucille and left with out a word to anyone else.

This is all I'm going to be able to post of for a couple of days, so enjoy it.