A law to herself

The boys were waiting for her when she got back, eager to know how things had gone, and Ron especially wanted to know what her parents had made of Snape.

All she said about that was that the visit to her parents had gone well. She felt uneasy talking about Snape with the boys; it seemed to her that at the least she owed him the courtesy of keeping their private lives private.

She didn’t think the boys would understand, and she didn’t need to deal with the two of them whining about her keeping secrets from them when she had so much else on her plate, so she launched into a description of their appointment with the Snape family Lawyer.

The trip to the Lawyer hadn’t begun well – for the lawyer.

He made the mistake of addressing his remarks solely to Professor Snape, and didn’t even look at Hermione, who he constantly referred to as “The Spouse”. She allowed him to get away with that for around half an hour, whilst she absorbed the terms of “The Marriage Settlement”, and then things took a decided turn for the worse.

“As I understand it,” Hermione’s arctic tone had cut across the scratchy voice of Mr Murbles, “that provides me absolutely no protection at all. The purpose of this Settlement is to preserve my assets from my husband and not the other way around.”

Mr Murbles had politely ignored the interruption from The Spouse, and had continued explaining the provisions that applied in the event of A Child or even Children. The boys smirked at that – ignoring Hermione wasn’t sensible at the best of times.

“Nor is that acceptable; the provisions discriminate between boys and girls. I’m not standing for that,” she’d continued.

Mr Murbles had exchanged a glance of sympathy with Professor Snape before turning to address The Spouse. “Madam, it really isn’t necessary for you to take an interest in the proceedings at this point. No doubt your father will explain it all to you at a later date, when you have more leisure to understand the intricacies of the Settlement. After all, his will be the final say on the matter.”

“I doubt it,” she’d said. “These are magical contracts aren’t they? He’s a muggle and can’t enter into one.”

The boys were grinning by this stage of her recitation, and were eagerly awaiting the description of the Lawyer getting his comeuppance. “I never realised before that the expression ‘could hear a pin drop’ could be so literal. The silence was absolute, before it was broken by Mr Murbles taking a large gulp of water.” They knew the punchline to this joke; both of them were wondering whether she’d hit him or simply hexed him.

“He clearly didn’t believe me at first,” she continued. “I don’t know whether that was because women are clearly unreliable or whether the House of Snape was so venerable it’s never previously been polluted by a Mudblood, but he didn’t believe me until Professor Snape confirmed it.”

“Miss Granger is indeed a Muggleborn,” he’d said, very carefully stressing the word; not Mudblood, he meant, and she’d been grateful for his support. “She is also quite correct that the purpose of the Settlements is her protection, and I would be grateful if you would address your explanations to her.” Professor Snape’s tone had been polite – nothing as brusque as would use in Potions classes, or even to the Headmaster – it was nonetheless pretty clear he expected to be obeyed.

Hermione had been pleased to see that he was.

Mr Murbles had taken another sip of water to compose himself and then continued. “I find myself at a loss to understand why you are here considering Marriage Contracts. If this marriage is as a result of the new laws…..”

“It is as a result of the new laws,” she’d said, determined to make the lawyer acknowledge her existence, “but not under them.”

“So what did he say to that?” asked Harry. “Did he work out what you were up to?”

“Oh yes,” nodded Hermione. “It was amazing. His attitude completely changed. He stared at me and then muttered something about ‘Not under them, indeed.’ He made this funny huffing noise, you know, like Neville does when he’s concentrating on his homework, he snapped his fingers to summon a book, and started reading.”

His finger had travelled down the book as he unravelled the intricacies of the legislation, then he raised his head to say, “Well, congratulations are in order indeed. A very clever piece of work.”

For once, Mr Murbles had looked Hermione in the eye. “A very clever piece of work indeed.”

Hermione couldn’t help but think of Trevor as the lawyer’s cold, bulbous eyes had inspected her, though Trevor had never had that particular supercilious smile. Finally, she did seem to have marginally impressed him.

“Indeed. I presume that there is some reason that you find the new laws objectionable. Other,” he had continued before Hermione could interrupt, “than the fact that your culture prefers marriage for love. Something else then… There are rumours…” Some understanding had passed between Murbles and Professor Snape, because the man had turned pale. “No. They dare…”

Hermione had snorted. “Why would they not? They dare take away the rights of Muggleborns, why should they stop at anything else?”

Both men had looked at her with condescension and varying degrees of amusement. Mr Murbles had steepled his fingers, and given her the same supercilious smile. “My dear Miss Granger, the power of the Ministry is founded on doing what the important Pureblood families want. To go against them in this way is unprecedented.”

“You mean that they don’t want this law?” she’d asked blankly. “I rather thought the advantages of being able to control the Mudblood element would more than outweigh the little difficulty of having a halfbreed swinging from the family tree.”

“Apparently not,” was all the lawyer had said, as he busied himself shuffling papers. He’d obviously said more than he was comfortable with, but it was enough to give Hermione ideas. He’d stilled, and she had been regarded with pursed lips and a slight frown. “Very well then, if I may suggest… It seems to me that what you actually need is some way to protect your assets from the depradations of the Ministry. They are unlikely to take this news with any degree of enthusiasm, and may well seek to impose a large fine, or simply confiscate your assets.”

Hermione and Severus had exchanged glances. “I don’t really have any assets,” she’d said quietly. “I don’t know about you.”

Severus had looked flustered for a moment. “I have a cottage and my Hogwarts salary and very little else.”

Mr Murbles had made little hmmm hmmm noises, and began searching through his books again. “Aha. A very knotty problem, but I believe I may have the solution. you your assets in the Muggle world and the Ministry won’t be able to touch them.”

“Is that it?” asked Ron incredulously, when Hermione paused for breath. “That’s all you have to do: put your money in the Muggle world?”

Hermione nodded. “Though it’s not that easy when you think about it. I mean, most Purebloods wouldn’t know how to go about it, not really. I suspect that’s why it works in a way – none of the Purebloods at the Ministry can get their heads round pounds and pence, and how to open a bank account, and I shouldn’t think most of them have a friendly Muggle that they could ask.”

Ron snorted. “It can’t be that difficult.”

“Yeah, but think about it. Your Dad can’t even cope with electricity and plugs,” Harry said thoughtfully.

Ron looked unconvinced. “I still think it’s too simple. It might do in the short term, but the Ministry are going to get worse as time goes one, particularly if Hermione goes up against them. She needs something more.”

“I agree,” Hermione said. “And what’s more I asked the lawyer about it. He seems to be the family solicitor for all the Pureblood families, and you aren’t telling me that they don’t have secret vaults and money stashed away where the Ministry can’t get it. And anyway, if he’s right about the, not wanting this law, I thought it might be a good idea to drop a hint of what I intend to do, so it might make it’s way back to the right quarters.”

“That was a bit of a risk,” Harry said.

“I know. But the one thing my plans need is money. Money to pay for advertising, money to pay for lawyers fees, money to bail out other women, and money to hide them away. One of the reasons I didn’t run away was because I couldn’t think what I’d live on, how I’d be able to eat. And, whilst I was sitting in that poky office it struck me, who has lots of money and might be prepared to pay to get out of their commitments?”

The boys considered it for a moment. “That might work,” said Ron, running through the Pureblood families in his mind. “They are all twisty bastards, who are used to paying to get out of things that they don’t like doing. Instead of paying some Ministry official, they’ll be paying you. I like it.”

“You were taking a bit of a risk mentioning it to Murbles though,” Harry added. “He might mention it to the wrong people. If the Ministry find out what you’re up to….”

“Well, it seemed to me I didn’t have much of a choice; it’s not like they’d be prepared to meet me face to face so I can explain what I have in mind. Anyway, it’s not like I came out into the open and said it. I tried to be subtle, and dropped hints, though he understood what I was suggesting almost straight away.”

“Mr Murbles, if I wanted to keep financial dealings secret from the Ministry, would it be possible to do so?” she had asked.

He’d smiled faintly. “I am not accustomed to being asked that question with quite such frankness, but it would certainly be possible to create such a labyrinthine structure to hold your assets that no one would be able to penetrate it. You will forgive me though; I fail to see why you think that your assets require such protection. Neither of you are rich.” There had been a faint note of distaste at having to mention something as vulgar as money to such fine upstanding people, well one fine upstanding person and his fiancée.

“Indeed. However, it is my intention on leaving school to campaign to have this stupid law overturned. It also occurs to me that funds will be necessary to support any witches who choose to make a run for it rather than submit to this indignity. It may be that certain families, who can see that this would be for their mutual benefit, may also wish to make donations.” Hermione had hoped that this was sufficiently vague to convey her meaning: if the Pureblood family paid enough, the Witch would make a run for it, and both sides would be happy.

It was ingenious. Mr Murbles had obviously thought so; she had been rewarded with a faint smirk and a small nod of acknowledgement. “Under the circumstances, these provisions will no longer be suitable.” He tapped his wand on the documents before him and they rolled themselves up, floated over to the fire and incinerated themselves. “It may take me some time to prepare replacements, but I will contact you when they are ready. In the meantime, might I suggest that Miss Granger takes the necessary steps to transfer her assets into a Muggle bank account, and that you, Professor, give some thought as to who you might entrust with the deeds to the cottage.”

“My parents,” she’d suggested. “Unless you think that’s too close to home?”

“I think that would be ideal, Miss Granger. If you are agreeable, I can prepare the necessary conveyance and send it to you at Hogwarts.” Mr Murbles had sm fai faintly, and then ushered them to the door.

Professor Snape had assented with a curt nod, and then they had been freed from the stuffy confines of the man’s office and had apparated back to Hogwarts where they gone their separate ways with barely another word.

“So,” she concluded. “All in all I think it went quite well.”

“Yep, I think that was a good days work,” Ron said. “You’ve laid the foundations for your revolution quite nicely.”

“I thought so. Professor Snape gave me ever such a funny look when we got back to Hogwarts. He looked a bit worried actually.”

Ron smiled broadly. “Well you have managed to stitch him up, you know.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said blankly.

“Well, you managed to get your hands on his cottage and his money. It does mean he has to be nice to you – or else.”

The boys found this intensely humorous; Hermione did not. For all her talk about this not really affecting Professor Snape’s life, he did seem to be being dragged in ever deeper.

And what if he changed his mind?

As the days ticked down towards the wedding she half expected to receive a curt note from Snape saying that the engagement was off. The day the Owl arrived from the lawyer – she’d never seen him receive post from anyone, so she assumed it was the lawyer – had been spent on tenterhooks.

The day before her wedding she received a note from him. She recognised his spiky writing from the snocommcomments scrawled across her homework, and spent nearly ten minutes worrying about what he was writing to her about.

In the end, Harry had pulled the note from her hands and opened it for her. “It’s alright. He just wants to see you tonight, to make arrangements for tomorrow.”

She’d felt sick with relief, and then there was a moment when the Universe rearranged itself around her in the way it did when she suddenly saw the answer to a problem, or finally understood a really abstruse technical point; she was actually looking forward to marrying Snape.

Well, not looking forward, that was going too far, but it was true that she had come to rely on him. She trusted him to be on her side in almost the same way as the boys. They weren’t friends, but maybe they were allies.

It was a very odd idea even for someone who had spent most of her time at Hogwarts trying to persuade the boys that Snape wasn’t all bad.


It didn’t seem that her newfound appreciation of Severus made it any easier to talk to him, or his disposition any more pleasant. It couldn’t be denied that he was irritable and touchy.

They’d been discussing arrangements, where and when to meet that sort of thing, when he took exception to the way she was looking at him.

For heaven’s sake, Miss Granger,” he’d snarled. “I fail to see why you are suddenly obsessed with my features. They are surely familiar enough to you after six years of schooling.”

She hadn’t been aware that she’d been staring. She flushed bright red, and was on the point of dropping her eyes when she realised that in those six years she probably never had looked at him. The only time they’d ever been in close proximity was the classroom, and then you were too busy keeping your head down and hoping not to be noticed, to spend long examining Professor Snape and forming an opinion on his appearance.

He wasn’t a handsome man, but neither was he the ugly monster of common report. He was a normal man, with an overlarge nose, yellow teeth, and yes, the hair was greasy. He also had nice eyes when he was relaxed, rather nice hands, and it was undeniable that there was a certain something about the way he moved and spoke.

He wasn’t entirely unattractive.

Severus was surprised when she continued looking at him, and was beginning to feel extremely uneasy. “What is the matter with you, Miss Granger?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just a bit strange you know,” she said softly. “Tomorrow we’re getting married, and I barely know you.”

He sighed. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want change my mind. In fact, I’ve spent all this week worrying that you might change yours.”

“Why would you think that? I gave you my word.” Severus sounded huffy but curious.

“I think it was just wedding nerves. Brides are supposed to get them you know. That, and realising quite what a task I’d taken on.”

Severus opened his mouth, all indignation, then subsided. “You don’t mean me, do you?”

Hermione smiled. “No, I’m quite happy about marrying you, sort of. It’s just, what if I don’t get the law overturned?”

“Hermione, in the course of two weeks you have successfully evaded Lucius Malfoy, double-crossed Dumbledore, lured me into marriage, and bullied a respected member of the legal profession into opening negotiations with the Pureblood families on your behalf. What on earth makes you think you won’t be able to do this?”

Hermione’s smile broadened. “Well, I still haven’t managed to get the boys to do their homework any earlier than the night before.”

Severus smirked. “Well you ought to count that as an achievement. I’m sure that without you, they wouldn’t even be doing that. Potter wouldn’t have passed his Potions Owl without your help.”

Hermione’s smile faded a little. “Severus,” she said, her voice trembling a little, “I know I shouldn’t ask, but you will help me won’t you?” She unconsciously put her hand on his sleeve in a gesture of appeal. “I know I said that being married wouldn’t make any difference to your life, and I meant it, so I’ll understand if you say no.”

Severus patted the hand that was resting on his arm. “I always thought that was a rather naïve view, really. You and your friends have been nothing but trouble since you started at Hogwarts, and I see no reason why you would be less troublesome just because we were married.”

Hermione hoped he was joking, at least a little; it was hard to tell though. She decided to let the matter drop for now. They had rather more pressing matters to deal with.

“Right, well I thought we could Floo to my parents tomorrow morning. We’d get changed into Muggle clothes there, and then they’ll drive us to the Register Office. Mum will take Harry and Ron in her car; Dad will take us.

“Then, after the ceremony, we turn round and come back to my parents’ house. I think they’d like us to stay for dinner, if possible.”

Severus shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you. I’m aware that it must be your idea of hell to be trapped in a Muggle house with Harry and Ron.”

Severus didn’t deny it; he couldn’t. It was a fairly accurate summation of how he felt. His only consolation was that it could be a lot worse. It was a thought he would hang on to, to see him through the coming days.

After all, it could have been the Parkinsons.