An Inconvenient Marriage

Part 2

“At last,” my husband said softly, words that seemed to be spoken more to himself than to me.

Given the amount of time and effort Severus had put into making the antidote, this day should not have surprised me. But the air of satisfaction about him as well as the gloating triumph upon his face made me conscious of what I was – an unwanted, unlovely Gryffindor wife in the eyes of my husband and it hurt me inside. I had always had sympathies for the underdogs of life, and now it was brought home to me that I really had become one.

I could have hexed him on the spot. Several times.

But I couldn’t go on like this anymore – I needed to get away.

“I want to go away for a holiday,” I said tightly.

Severus raised an eyebrow at me (he dared to!) but on this day he was obviously inclined to be generous to me. After all, he didn’t have to sleep with me anymore, did he? The way in which he held himself now declared his satisfaction in the freedom he now had from me…….but surely, I thought, there had been times when he had enjoyed being with me? Had there?

“Do what you like and take as long as you need,” he said smoothly and swept away. As well as making me drink his contraceptive potion, he had laid extensive spells upon me to protect me against any curses being cast in my direction by the Malfoys (perhaps he had feared the Constant Desire curse being laid upon me as well?) or any others. With me thusly protected he obviously did not see any reason to wish me a happy holiday. Or other words a husband would say. I would miss his touch – oh, I readily admitted to that. After all, I was a shameless Gryffindor wasn’t I? But I knew that in the dark of night for a moment I would miss him. Yes, I freely admit that I was a fool.

After angrily blinking away a tear I went back to my quarters and composed a letter to Fern, begging her indulgence in letting me visit her for a holiday.

Her return letter informed me that I was to come and see her as soon as possible. The news made me feel as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and so I started packing.

When I had made arrangements and my bags were ready, I looked around my quarters.

Oddly, despite the general gloom of the manor I had come to be fond of it in my way way. I had encouraged the house elves (who were almost insanely devoted to their ‘O Powerful Master!’ and spat at the thought of freedom, unfortunately) to do more cleaning around the place than Severus had asked them to do, and as a result it had a cleaner, tidier feel about it.

Naturally Severus had not noticed, or commented.

The elves provided good meals of course – I was only an average cook and Severus, in a rare moment of levity, had said that his appalling cooking skills would surely guarantee him an automatic detention every time he made a meal.

Extra fires too had helped to take away some of the chill as well………I was confident enough that the manor would not be a pigsty when I returned.

I smiled tightly. I was assuming that I would be truly glad to return.

____________

When I arrived in San Francisco I was so glad to see the friendly face that was Fern’s that I hugged her. Fern exclaimed over what she felt was my wan appearance, sternly promising that she would make sure I enjoyed myself.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had really and truly enjoyed myself, but if this state of being was possible, it would be here and with her.

Fern lived in a rambling house that overlooked the sea, and the brisk salt air that blew into my sea-facing room was a welcome tonic in those days. If my friend felt weighed down by the outpouring of my sorrows that she knew of already through my letters, she did not show it.

“Are you absolutely sure you can’t divorce the bastard?” she said bluntly at one point as she handed me a coffee, her bright blue eyes openly condemning my husband.

I sighed. I knew Severus would have gladly done so if he could…….and it would have given me a way out as well. “No,” I said with finality. “The Ministry of Magic has decreed that divorces would be ‘a violation of the spirit of marriage’.”

“A damn shame if you ask me,” Fern said grimly, “we don’t have that sort of Marriage Law nonsense here”. Then she sighed.

“Then you will just have to make the best of it. And,” she added quietly with a sympathetic, sideways look at me, “when the opportunity arises, take a lover for yourself on the side. People in arranged marriages often do.”

Momentarily startled by the audacity of what she had suggested, I gaped at her.

“A fly will get in your mouth if you’re not careful,” she said cheerfully. “You know I’m being realistic, Hermione.”

Then she looked thoughtfully at my hair and robes. Out of habit I kept my unmanageable hair plaited to keep it out of the way, and black robes practically filled my whole wardrobe.

“What?” I said suspiciously.

“Girl, it’s time for some serious retail therapy on your part.”

Despite my vehement protests that it wouldn’t do any good, she booked me for a haircut at her local hair salon. The wizard community here in San Francisco was more relaxed and well, bohemian than back at home, and the hairdresser with her spiky, bright blue hair looked at me appraisingly.

“There’s potential there,” she mused and then she set to work on me.

Some time later I stared at myself in the mirror. With my bushy hair cut until it was only brushing my shoulders, my face looked……different, and there was a new and better bounce to my hair. My features were too strong for conventional beauty and I would never get many second looks, but it seemed I suddenly had a face that I could feel happier with. My brown hair was now coloured a deeper shade of brown with auburn highlights as well, a big change from its usual mousiness.

Fern didn’t stop with my hair but coaxed me into a clothing store, places that I usually avoided. I put my foot down though and said I would not be buying anything that was frilly or fussy (the type of clothes that Lavender and Parvati adored now that they had graduated and could wear what they liked). I preferred clothes that I could walk freely in without having to make mincing steps all the time.

“Autumn tones of course,” murmured the shop assistant with her bright pink hair (what was it with hair dye around here?). So it was I found myself buying robes (that I realised suited me quite well) in tones of dark red, chocolate brown, golden brown and even bottle green. I made an internal face at that last choice – wearing Slytherin colours? But I let it pass for I found myself liking that particular colour of green.

The weeks of my holiday went too quickly and I was sad to leave in the end, for I had really enjoyed myself (despite being dragged off to the shops). I felt rested and refreshed though, willing to make my own life now within the boundaries of my marriage when I returned. I was skilled at potion making after all, and at the back of my mind was the memory of having seen an empty shop in Diagon Alley on my last visit there before I went on holiday.

I would eventually need something to occupy my days instead of constant studying – why not set up my own modest business selling potions? Though I had an admittedly generous allowance from Severus I wanted the satisfaction of having my own money.

It was a poignant farewell on both sides when Fern and I parted. But when I returned home I felt as if I had a new-found calm about me that I wore like an invisible cloak – I would no longer be the miserable girl I was who had been desperate for a sign, any sign, of affection from Severus. I could and would be cool, calm and collected at all times. The ideal wife, in other words.

It may have been a trick of the light but Severus seemed to look at me in an odd, startled way for a moment when I returned. His features were too harsh to be called handsome of course, but there was something about him (and the way he carried himself as always) that made my heart skip a beat in an odd way upon seeing him. Then there was a sneer on his face as he looked at my bursting-at-the-seams bags and I decided I had imagined his look.

“I see you had enjoyed your holiday,” he said caustically.

“Yes, I have,” I said calmly. “Thank you for asking.” I nodded politely to Severus and then turned away, directing the eager house elves (who were hovering in the background) to take my bags to my quarters. I could feel his eyes boring into my back but I didn’t look back.

If he wanted a marriage of convenience, well, he had one now.

When I informed Severus the next day of my plans to set up my own business, he was predictably furious, his black eyes glaring at me over the formal dinner table.

“The women of my family have never worked – my mother doesn’t and her mother certainly did not!” he snapped. “I forbid it wife - you will make us into a laughingstock!”

Angry, I glowered back at him. “We are probably already a laughingstock,” I said coldly and precisely. “I don’t see how this will make much difference, husband. Besides, running my own business will keep me occupied and out of your way – isn’t that what you want?”

Severus closed his mouth with a snap and looked at me with narrowed eyes, as if he didn’t know what to make of my new attitude.

“Then do not come running to me for help when you fail,” he said curtly and went back to his meal, pointedly ignoring me.

Well, that was an easy request to grant, I thought grimly. But I would not fail.

____________

I went into my original world and took a course in the pros and cons of setting up a small business. Counsel of this kind was available in the wizard world, but ‘Muggles’ were more efficient and logical when it came to this sort of advice.

Fortunately the empty shop in Diagon Alley was still available when I came to make an offer to its landlord to rent it out.

The shop was tucked away in the not-so-posh end, somehow looking sad and forlorn with ancient cobwebs hanging in ceiling corners. But it was spacious enough for my needs – there was a workroom at the back that I could use to make potions as well as a tiny room. The back door of the shop opened out into a private courtyard that was shared by other shops, for I could see chairs and upturned crates by their locked back doors (after all, everyone needed a break now and then). An ancient fountain in the middle of the cobbled courtyard grudgingly gave forth sprays of silvery water.

It was perfect.

No doubt Severus would sneer down that nose of his when he saw where I was working, but there was a certain charm about the shop all the same.

“I will take it,” I said decisively to the landlord, a wizard called Albert Penny who had an amiable face and a body accustomed to rich dinners and poor exercise.

He looked at me keenly while I did my best to appear as a hardworking, sensible witch. The he nodded in acceptance and after informing me of when the rent was due and other legal formalities, he handed me the shop keys with a grandiose flourish. Surprisingly, the key chain had a small plastic Elvis attached to it. It seemed the landlord was a closet Elvis fan in a world where Muggle music was politely ignored……but then, stranger things had happened.

Albert bid me good day, calling me ‘Mrs Snape’ without a flicker of an eyelash (I still had to stop myself from automatically turning around to see who this Mrs Snape was). I had thought that people were still ghoulishly interested in the odd pairing of Professor Snape and myself, but then I realised we had become old news now. Mrs Hermione Snape working in a shop in Diagon Alley? Sure. Fine. Whatever, even. Meanwhile, have you heard about the latest scandal with……

I could have used magic to clean down the shop, but there is something about cleaning a place for the first time that makes it your own. Obtaining mops, buckets and dusters and dressed in my oldest robe I attacked the shop.

I cleaned down the shelves and counter, and wiped grimy finger marks off the walls. The cobwebs were banished and the windows were cleaned until they shone. The floor was certainly good to eat off after I had finished mopping it down, splashing rose oil on the floor before I cleaned it so it gave off a pleasant scent.

I eventually set up potion making equipment and supplies in the workroom – there was a small fireplace where I could be warm in the wi and and toast sandwiches in it if I wanted (something I had often done at Hogwarts in my Tower for secret, light meals). The chimney ran up through the room upstairs, and would give off warmth there whenever I wanted a rest (for I had obtained a comfy, second-hand couch that I managed to levitate up the staircase, covering it after with a cheerful rug).

Peering out of the tiny window (well cleaned by me of course) I felt oddly comforted by the sight of the higgledy-piggleoofsoofs of the surrounding shops below me, smiling for a moment at the sight of small, yellow-flowering plants that defiantly grew out of cracks in various chimneys. Like me, they were determined to be and grow where they wished.

I had a sign that said ‘Hermione’s Potent Potions’ painted in gold letters upon a scarlet background, and felt a sense of satisfaction in seeing it hung up outside my shop. I brought Crookshanks in his cat carrier to the shop and after investigating every corner (even in the little toilet) carefully, he took up residence besides the fireplace when he was there (of course).

Last, but not least, I hung a picture of my parents over the fireplace – it gave me some comfort to think they were watching over me in some way. I wondered what they would be thinking now if they could see me, the daughter they had had such proud plans for.

I shook my head. I was determined not to waste precious time brooding over what-might-have-been. I was known as being practical, and I would not stop now.

The business got off to a shaky start with little custom at first, for I was competing against other, more established potion shops that sold what I was selling too. It was only when I absently applied a concoction of mine to a persistent spot upon my nose (charming the damn things away like most people did only made them return with renewed vengeance) that I realised with a start that I had a product that other shops would not deign to sell. A product that would appeal to the teenage market too…..

Excited, I spent most of a weekend privately making up fresh batches, bottling and labelling them to be ready for the shop on Monday. I couldn’t wait! I took care not to appear too excited when Severus was in the vicinity, though he stared sharply at me once at home with his black eyes as though he suspected something was different about me.

When Monday came (with some of my products carefully displayed in my windows) the curious trickle of people into the shop soon became a flood as the day went on. At last I had the chance of making a decent profit and I felt a new lease of life, with the added sense that I had done the right thing in setting up my own business (and without his help too).

My life took on a new rhythm – I was still getting used to working in a shop all day and so I worked Mondays to Thursdays as well as Saturday mornings. Later I could expand my hours, of course. I was able to get the Ministry to reconnect the shops Floo link to a spare fireplace at home (for a hefty price, of course) which was better than expending more magical energy in Apparating to and fro from work.

I only saw Severus at the certain nights we had dinner together (he obviously felt it was his duty not to entirely neglect his wife). Afterwards I would go and work on the new batches or go out for the evening to various magical lectures I was interested in. I found too that the single-mindedness I had devoted to study served me well now when I focussed it upon my shop.

But then, perhaps I was a born workaholic.

Fern was glad to hear of my success, and when my curious friends turned up at my shop to gawk, they said how I had become ‘such a different person’. Things were still ard ard between us and perhaps would always be – we had become different people now and you couldn’t turn back the clock. Harry and Ron had both chosen to go into professional Quidditch careers and by all accounts did well these days, revelling in the adulation (and the adoring female fans of course).

I slowly made other friends as well – the shy Lucy Bellweather, (who nevertheless had a wicked sense of humour) who helped to look after the various birds and animals in the shop that sold familiars, as well Simon Petrel, a gawky wizard who visited all of the shops each day with a welcome basket of food for me to buy from (so much for me toasting sandwiches in the fireplace for lunch but then, his steak pies were delicious).

Anyway, I was so wrapped up in my work that I stopped speaking to Severus about anything of importance anymore, apart from the occasional “pass the salt” at dinner. At times I felt the urge to confide in him my daily events at my shop, the hopes and plans I had for it, but when I opened my mouth to speak I felt the words stick in my throat. Why should I share things with him, when he had made it clear I was nothing but a nuisance in his life, a part of me whispered. He was not the world’s greatest conversationalist either, so our meals were usually conducted in silence before we went our separate ways.

Severus gave the impression of not minding this new state of affairs between us, and I found my heart hardening that much further toward him. But at times too I found Severus watching me with a faint frown, his black eyes hooded as if I had changed into a totally different person he didn’t recognise and was discomforted by this realisation.