Written in Blood

"Hermione," she asked incredulously, "are you really intending to tell your parents about your marriage to your Professor in an owl?"

Hermione was genuinely surprised. "Of course. I mean, it's not the ideal way, I'll grant you, but how else am I supposed to tell them?"

Ginny walked to her friend's bed and sat down, looking at her friend critically. "Well, you could go and see them---"

"But we're not allowed!"

"and you're of age to Apparate---"

"you you can't Apparate inside the castle!"

"and you could walk to Hogsmeade---"

"But you can't just leave school!"

&nbsP>

"and it's Christmas Break, and Dumbledore would let you, and it would be a good idea to give your parents a chance to meet their future son-in-law before you marry him---"

"But what if they don't like him?"

"and you could tell them in person---"

"But…" Hermione stopped, realizing she had no more objections. It did make sense, she had to admit. She had never really fancied the idea of telling her pas abs about her abrupt move in an owl, but hadn't seen any other. I. It was a good plan her friend had come up with, she decided. Still a bit frazzled, she stood, making for the doorway and the dungeons. "I'll just…I'll just go ask Severus if he'd like to meet his in-laws." Musing over how strange that phrase sounded when applied to her parents, she walked out the door and down the stairway, leaving Ginny behind, shaking her head.

"I'm sure that will go over well," the redhead muttered under her breath.

********************************************************

"You must be joking."

Snape rose from his armchair, frowning. "You truly want me to meet your parents? Whatever for?"

"Well," Hermione went on, determined, "you are going to have to meet them at the wedding in any case, so why not get the difficult part over with now? You'll like them, they're wonderful people!"

Snape smiled ironically. "I have no doubt of that. They must indeed be exemplary," he said, as he raised a hand to smooth her hair away from her face, making her blush, "to produce such an exceptional child."

Hermione smiledthe the gentle gesture, but was still confused. "If you think you'll like them, then why--"

"My dear," Snape continued, marveling at how natural the endearment sounded on his tongue, "my only fear is that you will be upset by their rather sudden hatred of me." He went on over her objections, "You see, I am not, I believe, what any sensible woman would choose their daughter to marry. Nor do I believe your father will be quite pleased with the idea of his daughter marrying a man who is more than twice her age."

As she could find no fault with his logic, Hermione tried a different tactic. "So, what are you going to do? Are you going to let them glare through the wedding and refuse their blessings?" She took her fiancée's hands in her own, bringing their faces very close together and stood quickly on her tiptoes, giving him a quick peck on the nose. "Or are you going to try and change their minds?"

Snape stared down into her eyes for a moment, then sighed, glancing at the floor over her shoulder instead. "Well," he said as he grimaced slightly, "I suppose we should speak to the Headmaster."

They headed up the corridors arm in arm, making straight for the Headmaster's chambers. The couple paused for a moment outside the stone gargoyle. Snape cleared his throat, and uttered, "Sugar Quill." They stepped quickly onto the staircase as the statue sprang aside.

Dumbledore seemed genuinely surprised that Hermione and Snape hadn't come to see him about this matter earlier. At Snape's suggestion that they hop over to Hogsmeade and apparate from there, the Headmaster broke in, "Of course, you shall do no such thing." He whipped out a very decrepit-looking baseball cap somewhere from beneath his desk, and whisked out his want, muttering, "Portus."

In explanation, he told them, "This is much cleaner. And you won't terrify any of the muggles about with Apparating---you know it makes such a racket, and they aren't used to it. Besides, you only passed your test a month ago, correct, Miss Granger?" At Hermione's somewhat indignant nod, signifying that she knew she was perfectly capable of Apparating to her own home, Dumbledore handed the couple the baseball cap. His eye twinkled as he said with (to his credit) a straight face, "Enjoy yourselves!"

Snape had just enough time to give him a withering look before they vanished abruptly in a chaotic, swirling mess.

********************************************************

After everything had righted itself, Snape looked around. He guessed from the orderly foliage that they were in someone's yard, or garden.

"My parent's backyard," Hermione explained. She took his hand, and led him around the house to the street side. "The back door is always locked," she explained, "and I didn't bring my key." She rapped three times briskly on the front door, eliciting a sharp dog's bark, trying to conceal her nervousness.

He was rather nervous himself--not that he would have admitted it to his young fiancée, or to anyone. He heard footsteps coming closer to the door, and a woman's voice calling, "Coming!" He quickly let go Hermione's hand. At her curious and slightly hurt look, he whispered to her, "Better break it to them gently." She nodded in agreement.

The door was flung open to reveal a middle-aged woman with brown hair tightly wound into a bun.

"Mum…" Hermione began, but was abruptly cut off as the woman gave a shriek and engulfed her in a gigantic hug. Releasing her daughter just enough to look into her face, Mrs. Granger asked, "What are you doing here? Has there been some sort of accident? Are you all right? Are you hurt? Who is your…friend?" she asked, finally seeing the dark figure lurking behind her daughter.

Couldn't imagine where she gets her inquisitiveness from, Snape thought dryly. He stepped forward, about to introduce himself, when a gentle-looking man with fair hair, wearing glasses which had the look of habitually falling down on his nose came down the stairs, asking, "Is that my little girl?" He glanced nervously at Snape, who realized he must look like some sort of avenging demon, with his face like a gargoyle and his voluminous black robes billowing in the winter breeze.

Hermione was having difficulty escaping her mother's tight grasp to greet her father (Her declining to holiday with them had not gone over happily), so Snape stepped forward, extending his hand.

"Severus Snape, sir," he introduced himself, shaking the fair-haired man's hand. Hermione's father had a firm grip, as well as a slightly mistrustful expression on his face.

"Snape?" he asked. He turned to his daughter. "Hermione, didn't you say one of your Professors was named Snape?"

"Yes, Dad," Hermione replied, having finally extricating herself from her mother's embrace. "Professor Snape is my Potions teacher."

At the look Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchanged, Snape guessed that whatever they had heard about their daughter's Potions professor likely did not cast him in a favorable light. Mrs. Granger broke the awkward silence at last, saying, "Won't you come in for some tea?"

When they had all seated comfortable in the living room (with Hermione between her parents and Snape in an armchair facing them---a position that did not put him at ease in the slightest), Snape cleared his throat.

"Mr. ars. rs. Granger," he began uncomfortably. He was quite unaware how he was going to phrase this. It didn't seem tactful to blurt out, 'I am going to marry lit little girl whether you like it or not' in the least. He finished his sentence lamely, "you have a lovely home."

He could see Hermione glaring at him from the sofa, willing him to make the first move, and he glared back, refusing. He wasn't going to ruin these people's lives with announcing this badly.

Mr. Granger spoke up, voicing the question that must have been plaguing both he and his wife since they had arrived. "So…what brings you here, Professor, Hermione?" He turned to his daughter, demanding an answer.

"Well," she replied slowly, "we have some news we think you should know."

"Yes," continued Snape, glad for the introduction. "We would like to tell you---"

At that moment, they heard a high-pitched whistle from the kitchen. Hermione's mother jumped up, heading for the doorway. "That must be the tea. You wait until I come back, dear! I want to hear all about your news!"

Hermione's father made an admirable attempt at small talk, asking the Professor, "What sort of subject is Potions? Is it true you work in a dungeon?"

Glad for the subject change, Snape answered, "Yes, my primary work is done in the dungeons. Potions are a fascinating art, Mr. Granger, full of historical tradition and practice. In fact," Snape continued, grasping hold of the subject he knew most about, "Potion brewing is among the most ancient and important sciences still practiced by the wizarding world today. If you were to brew, for example, a Truth Potion, you would be taking your place in one of the oldest rituals known to mankind. Another potion long in existence---"

"My father is a dentist," Hermione broke in quickly, seeing her father's flabbergasted yet intrigued face, and not wanting to be pestered with questions about wolfsbane and asphodel while she was at home. "Perhaps," she suggested with an iron look to back her up, "you are curious what he does for a living, Professor?"

"Now, Hermione," her father began to chastise her, but just then Mrs. Granger came back with the tea. Setting the tray on the coffee table, she handed each person a cup, and asked, "Professor, what do you take in your tea?"

"One lump, and a drop of cream, if you please," he answered automatically. At the shake of Hermione's head, he knew he had made a mistake, but had no idea what.

"I'm sorry," her mother told him, "but we don't keep sugar cubes. I have cream, though!" She poured a dollop into his cup, and he sat back, wondering what he was marrying into. <

&

Marrying. All right, time to tell them. This had gone on far too long, for his comfort. He steeled himself to tell this couple he was taking their daughter away to his dungeon, when Mrs. Granger sat back on the couch and drew her daughter's hand into her lap, saving him the trouble.

Mrs. Granger's eyes went wide as she raised Hermione's hand to her face, examining the ring. "Darling," she asked shakily, "what is this?"

Hermione sighed. She had tiptoed enough. "Mum, Professor Snape and I are engaged. The ceremony is in two days."

There was a stunned silence. All the color drained from her father's face, and her mother seemed to be trying to stare at Snape without widening her eyes in disbelief. Her mother spoke first.

"Darling," she said, trying somehow to be tactful, "what are you talking about?"

Snape broke in, telling his future mother-in-law, "Exactly what she said, Mrs. Granger. Hermione has kindly consented to become my wife, and we will be married in two days' time. We hope you will attend."

Hermione's father seemed to have lost the use of his vocal cords. Trembling, he looked desperately at his daughter for an explanation as to why she would, how she could, possibly marry this man.

"Daddy," she told him gently, "it will be all right. You'll see! Severus is a wonderful man, and he cares about me very much. And if you would listen to him for a while, I think you'll get to like him, too." She glanced over at Snape, who was sitting motionless on the chair. He hadn't moved since his last pronouncement, and seemed almost to be carved of stone, an implacable statue.

"But…" her father pressed, "no matter how much you care about this…man," he seemed to choke on the word, "why don't you just wait until you're at least out of school?"

Hermione's mother leaned over to her daughter, and took her chin in her hand, tilting it so she could look into Hermione's face. Mrs. Granger swallowed, and said, "Because she's pregnant."

Mr. Granger opened and shut his mouth, and finally managed to croak, "Get out."

Hermione gasped, "Daddy!"

Mr. Granger began to nod, as if convincing himself. He pointed a shaky finger at the doorway, and repeated, "Get out. Of myf my house, and out of my daughter's lif/P> /P>

Hermione clutched the offending finger, trying to make her father see reason, but the usually reserved man had his dander up. "I don't want to see you here again," he continued, attempting to stand with his daughter hanging on to his arm, "and I don't want to hear of you talking to my daughter again. And I don't want…" He trailed off, eyes beginning to tear, and collapsed back onto the couch. He turned betrayed-looking eyes on his daughter, and whispered, "Why?"

Hermione looked frantically at Snape for help, but he had no idea what to tell her. The only thing they could do, it seemed, was to tell them about the curse. And yet…was that too big a trouble-box to open?

He frowned, thinking, and said, "That f nof no consequence at the present time. What is important is what will happen now; your daughter and our child" a strangled noise was heard from Mr. Granger, "will live at Hogwarts with me until certain persons have been relocated." Hermione hid a snicker as she realized he meant his mother. "After that, she will live either at Hogwarts, or at my family's manor, whichever she prefers. I don'tendtend to stand in the way of her accomplishing anything at all she wishes to do. If she wishes to work, I will find a nanny for the child. If she wishes to stay home, I will provide any means of enjoyment she wishes. And please know," he told his in-laws, in the greatest seriousness, "that your daughter will always have my protection, and she will always have my affection."

"Mum, Dad," Hermione spoke up, after giving Snape a glowing look, "I really need you to be all right with this. This concerns my whole future, and there's nothing that can change it." In a symbolic gesture, she stood from the couch and walked around the coffee table to stand by her fiancée. He reached his hand up, and grasped hers.

After several long minutes, Mrs. Granger slowly nodded. Mr. Granger didn't look quite so sure, but at least the outbursts had stopped. Hermione's mr gar gave Snape a piercing stare, and then asked, "You are prepared to take on my daughter as your own family?"

At his nod, she proceeded with an almighty sigh, "Then I give the two of you my blessing."

Hermione flung herself at her mother in a flood of smiles and tears. Reluctantly, her father joined in at last in an immense family hug, with all parties openly crying---one of joy, one of overwhelmed emotion, and one of sorrow, most likely.

Finally, Hermione's mother wiped her eyes, still shuddering slightly, and exclaimed, "But you haven't touched your tea!"