A Budding Rose

Author's Note: Wow, thanks for all the wonderful reviews! To reply to some of the comments that were made, I was aware that SS was a half-blood, but I decided to kind of disregard that lol. I'm not sure if I want the Death Eaters to be exempt from that law or if I want him to be a pureblood in this story. Advice anyone?


Chapter Three

"Go on, just talk to each other as if I am not present," Severus said archly, his fingers tapping on the polished wood of Dumbledore's table.

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled at Hermione. "I believe you must consummate the marriage once, to secure the magical bond that will take place. That is the way the Ministry will be able to have proof that the marriage is... well, valid."

Hermione was silent for a moment. She was going to have to give up her virginity to her Potions Professor? That was beyond unfair. Her first time was supposed to have meant more than to secure a marriage that no one wanted. It was supposed to have been with someone she cared about and had feelings for sexually. Her eyes slanted over to Severus. She was suddenly aware how close they were, so close that she could feel the heat of his muscular thigh beside hers. Heat suffused her cheeks.

Severus' mind had gone blank for a moment. He was going to have to bed the Gryffindor wench, wasn't he? She was looking mightily uncomfortable at the prospect, squirming in Dumbledore's chair. Although Miss. Granger was not hideous, he knew for certain that he was not going to enjoy sex with her. She was an uptight little girl, with no thought for pleasure except of the erudite sort. Maybe he had agreed too soon to this marriage.

"I am willing to undergo the process ONCE for the sake of my safety," Severus heard her say finally, and he looked at her wonderingly. She still looked stiff, but defiant as well. True Gryffindor bravery. Severus snorted inwardly.

"That is very commendable of you," Dumbledore responded, his lips quirking in Severus' direction. The dirty old man. After another hour or so of talking about all the complications wrought on by the Marriage Law, Severus Snape stood up from his chair.

"Well, if that is all, I would like to retire," he said, nodding to Albus. Without further ado, he left the room, when a sudden thought came to him. Whispering an incantation, he waved his wand over himself.

*

Hermione was walking at a turtle's pace. She didn't know where exactly she was walking to. Dimly, she remembered that there was still one class left that she could make it to, but she just did not care at the moment.

Oh, she knew what the others would say. They would tell each other, yes it was a pity that Hermione had to marry the greasy bat of the dungeons, but she was the one who could withstand it best. It wasn't as though Hermione Granger could have had any romantic expectations. And they'd secretly be glad it wasn't them.

Despite what everyone thought, Hermione had moments like any other girl when she longed for companionship... someone who would love her without restraint, but would be able to understand her love for learning. And in the deepest part of her heart, which no one had cared to penetrate through, she had all the hopes and dreams of a teenaged girl to feel the softness of a kiss.

Tears of anger sped in her brown eyes. She didn't want to face Ron. In her heart, she knew that he felt more than just friendship for her, and for the longest time, she had as well. But now she didn't know. Not that it mattered anymore, Hermione realized with bitterness. She was to be wedded to a cold, heartless man.

Shuddering, she slunk into a dark little alcove, hidden amongst the clanking iron armor. She'd never felt so alone in her life.

A gasp breezed out of her as she felt strong arms wrap around her suddenly. Hermione wriggled and kicked her legs to no effect, when the invisible person whispered harshly, "Hold still, you little lioness." She stilled, shock creeping down her spine. It was Professor Snape! Looking around, Hermione noticed that her legs were wrapped around what seemed to be merely air but was in fact her professor's middle, and her arms were clasped, circling his neck. Warmth pooled down into the center of her, and Hermione pinkened, as her breasts pressed sensuously against the solid wall of his chest.

"What are you doing?" she murmured, unable to speak louder. She barely had the energy to protest at his behavior. It felt so unreal. This could not be happening to her.

The Potions Master purred into her ear, and she shivered slightly. "I noticed you were unwontedly rude to me before. I thought you needed ... a lesson."

With that, his mouth landed on hers. To her utter surprise, it wasn't rough at all. It was a kiss of an entirely different feather from Ron's brutal attack. Snape's lips played with hers, warm and soft, his tongue slipping between her own lips, as if to taste briefly. Hermione made a little breathy sound, rubbing herself kittenlike over him. A sharp breath emitted from Snape at the small movement, and he let her go without warning. Plopping down, Hermione fell on her bottom hard and she yelped.

Severus swept away, his fingers running unconsciously over his lips.

*

It was very quiet in the Gryffindor Common Room that night. When Hermione finally walked in through the portrait, Ron rushed at her. To her surprise, his arms wrapped around her tightly, and she was flush against his chest. She unraveled herself from him a moment later, looking at her friend tiredly.

"Are you all right?" he demanded, letting her go reluctantly.

"I'm fine," but Ron detected the hollowness of her answer.

"Where have you been, Hermione?" Harry questioned, sidling over with a worried look on his face. Hugging him briefly, she shook her head.

"I just don't understand.." she muttered quietly, as if to herself. Putting on a shadowy smile, she said, "I hope you don't mind, but I'm exhausted. I'll see you at breakfast." Neither of them stopped her, but they both watched her stooped shoulders until she disappeared from sight.

Ron didn't speak for a moment. When he did, his voice was fierce. "I'll marry her, no matter what. I'm not going to let the Ministry do that to her."

"But you are both so young," Harry said, and then whispered, "And you told me what happened yesterday."

"It doesn't matter. Hermione is more important than anything," Ron answered. "I love her."

"I know you do." The two boys moved up the stairs to their own room, not saying another word.

*

Above, Hermione could not sleep. She shifted, trying to make herself comfortable, but dreams evaded her. Perhaps it was because her life had taken on such a nightmarish quality, there was no need for any more dreams.

So she was to marry Severus Snape. Her professor, a man twenty years older than she was. A man so abrasive and sharp tongued that he could cut anyone to ribbons. Somehow, that wasn't the type of person Hermione had expected to marry.

And what would her parents say? She sat up straight in her bed, her coverlets sliding off onto the floor. Oh dear gods. Her parents would drag her out of Hogwarts by the ear, and insist that she go back to being a normal girl. They wouldn't understand at all. They knew nothing of the dangers in the wizarding world, and that Hermione herself was a major target. She couldn't let her parents get hurt or worse because of her. She would have to ask Professor Dumbledore what was to be done with them. Grimly, Hermione decided that if they had to be Obliviated to be safe, so be it.

Her thoughts drifted back towards her impending marriage. The ceremony was probably going to be extremely hurried, none of the frippery and lace that usually acknowledged the tying of the knot. There was no need for celebration. Hers was not to be a happy wedding. Hermione thought ironically that she could come dressed in her school robes and no one would care. Certainly not her bridegroom.

She hadn't a particle of doubt that her husband would wear black to his own wedding. It was probably suitable for him, anyway. He was giving up his bachelorhood, and any chance of happiness. Hermione sighed. When she thought about it, Professor Snape was more unfortunate than herself.

The oddest thing was, there was a part of her that didn't object at all to the thought of Severus Snape. Something about his personality drew her. Maybe it was that lack of connection with people, that somewhat hermitlike quality about him... It drew her because in a way, he was like her.

Or maybe it was because it was sensible. He could protect her from a painful death. Really, nothing else mattered. It wasn't as though they were marrying because of love. Their marriage was one of necessity. And if she needed to sleep with him to consummate it, so be it. She'd been through worse, after all.

But the kiss played over and over in her mind. She definitely had never felt that way before. Hermione folded her blankets over her. She would think of it tomorrow.

*

A certain someone was thinking along similar lines as his bride to be, as he sipped some firewhisky at Rosmerta's. Severus wasn't so immature as to dwell unnecessarily on the unfairness of the entire situation. He would ignore it, because he would only rage about it when nothing could be done.

Besides, he needn't see the girl often. All right, they would technically be married, and she would be safe under the title of Mrs. Snape, but she required nothing more than that from him.

Perhaps he had been wrong about Hermione Granger's sensuality, however.

His eyes flickered as he remembered the sight of her, the tracks of her tears still imprinted on her skin, the salted honey taste of her lips. Her legs had been slim but well rounded as they wrapped around his hips, and her eyes... they were the color of amber, and had been warm as summer with wonder at his kiss. Maybe bedding the witch would not be as hard a task as he had imagined, Severus thought ruefully, noting the tent that his hardened cock had formed.

But Miss. Granger definitely needed to learn some manners. He would not tolerate her lack of respect towards him. She would have to be taught that her place was not beside him, but below him.

He was aroused from his reveries on exactly how he would teach his bride-to-be with a tap on his shoulder. Turning, Severus saw his old friend, Lucius Malfoy. He gave Lucius a curt nod of acknowledgement as the light-haired man moved to sit in the stool beside him.

"Ah, Rosmerta, a chilled white wine will do," Lucius said, flashing the barmaid a glittering smile. The buxom Rosmerta left, then came back swiftly with a crystal glass.

After a leisurely drink, Lucius spoke idly to Snape. "I suppose you've heard about the new law on Mudbloods."

"I have," Snape condescended.

"Well, what do you think about it?" Malfoy asked, pushing aside a strand of white blond hair from his immaculate face. Before he could answer, Lucius pushed in with a, "It's simply outrageous. Good families will become tainted with dirty blood. I don't know what the Dark Lord was thinking..." he drifted off when he saw Severus' disapproving face.

"Lucius Malfoy, if I am correct, you are not privy to the Dark Lord's plans, and therefore are not in a position to reprimand him," Snape's voice was coolly considering. Pink spots formed in the chiseled marble of Lucius' cheeks.

"Of course. I forget myself in the presence of one who is highly regarded by the Lord," Lucius said acidly, before standing up. Withdrawing a gold Galleon from a silk drawstring pouch, he laid the coin on the counter and walked to the door. Before leaving, the man turned around, as if he'd forgotten something. His silvery eyes focused on Severus' dour face. "The Dark Lord may not have seen through your act, but I have. I would be more careful if I were you. But don't you think it's a cowardly way to survive? Playing both sides... tsk tsk." With that final shot, Malfoy left, knowing full well the rage that was boiling within the other man.