A/N: Beware those scary long chapters...I don't know if I should apologize or stare in awe. Wasn't sure if I liked this one or not, it was hard forming the words for some reason, but it happened. Thanks to my couple of reviewers! A big hug to the new ones!

She had been finishing her fifth shot when his fireplace sparked and sputtered. It turned an emerald green, from it flew an envelope. It floated through the air, rocking back and fourth as if the air had currant enough to lift it and keep it moving until it reached Severus. He held it firmly between his fingers, looking it over as if deciding to open it, and then tore off one side of the envelope, removing from it a card.

Mr. And Mrs. Severus Snape,

You are cordially invited to a ball to celebrate your joining.

Malfoy Manor

8PM

Tonight.

Yours,

V

He passed the card to Hermione when he was finished reading. She took it, looked it over, and moaned.

"I'm afraid we have no choice but to attend." He said and Hermione nodded.

"I shouldn't have had so many." She placed her shot glass on the table. "Just what I need, drunk and attending a ball held by Voldemort." She groaned.

"It's a ball. You'd be the odd one out not under the haze of alcohol." He stood. "You have a dress?"

"In my room."

"Winky." He called upon the House Elf that fittingly stumbled her way into the room. "Please fetch Miss Granger's dress robes and accessories from her room."

The tiny elf nodded once and then popped out of sight, returning a moment later with her arms full of dress, shoes and brush. Severus relieved her of the armload and nodded her away, looking at Hermione who stared at her dress in fear.

"What if he attacks me?" She asks. "Voldemort and I don't get along so well, you see."

"I will assure that doesn't happen." Severus said and stepped forward, offering her the fabric in his arms. "We're running late. You may use the toilet room, there." He pointed down the short hallway. "The door on the left."

Hermione begrudgingly snatched her dress from his arms and shuffled off, making sure the door was closed and locked behind her, pressing her ear against it until she heard Severus close his bedroom door.

The Malfoy Manor had been alive with celebration, the best candlesticks were lit and they flickered light over tables sticky with fire whisky, extra strong butterbeers and finger foods that only looked appetizing and tasted quite bland compared to the taste of victory lingering close on the horizon. Voldemort had stood on the top of the grand staircase that overlooked an even grander ballroom that was amassed with fancy dresses and the blackest of dress robes. Though his face was in an ever-constant grin that made him appear mad, his eyes glowered and twitched as he watched one pair of dancers move their way across the floor quite gracefully.

It was without much doubt that Hermione Granger had been the epitome of elegance and being on the arm of his most trustable servant gave her appeal. The way she spun, the smoothness of her neck when it extended in a dip, the way she held her head high even though Voldemort had forced her into a matrimony she didn't want had intrigued him far more than he cared to admit. She had become a worm in his head, one that had dug so deeply, that allowing Severus to accept the girl for his own, not even an ounce of protest, changed the cards at hand. She would still have to pay the price of a mudblood as soon as he came up with a way that would satisfy his loathing, but he'd be dumb to waste such intellect, such bravery.

The waltz ended with light applause from those watching from the outside, and Severus caught Voldemort's eye, protectively fitting an arm around Hermione's waist and led her away to disappear among the throes of his people. Fingers curling hard around the banner he was grasping onto, his grip strong enough to leave hot indentations, he left his place of surveying for the more quiet refines of his room, allowing the party to continue without his presence.

At first Hermione stood there, stripped down, shaking and resisting the urge to cover herself up while Severus led a careful eye over everything she had to offer. His touch, when it came, was as surprisingly gentle and patient, as they were dry and calloused. She could taste the shrimp cocktail he had been nibbling on all night on his lips, still, and was sure her breath, quivering, tasted of the sour flavors of whiskey and ginger wine, of which she had drank enough of to loose minutes at a time quite on purpose.

He didn't mind, bringing her cup after cup of the drink she craved knowing that by the end of the night she wouldn't remember him getting his rocks off and she'd be none the wiser to it, everything just a dream. It was, after all, her duty. As his wife, and as per the clause of their marriage, they were to conceive a child. She would have been happy to wait a bit longer just to feel more comfortable with the situation, with Severus, but Severus persisted, reminding her that the Dark Lord expected a baby, that the more they put it off the more the both of them would be at the other end of His wand. She imagined growing plump within the year and shoving the baby into Voldemort's arms.

"Here you go, asshole." She'd tell him. "Consider my tax paid in full." And then, maybe, if Merlin was with her, she'd be able to live her life out in peace.

One thing she did have to admit, the sex wasn't bad, from what she could consciously comprehend at the moment it was happening. Her toes would curl, he'd bring from her sounds she wasn't aware she could even make, and by the end she couldn't even walk the ten steps to the bathroom to take a piss because she'd end up a heap on the floor, her legs too wobbly to work, while Severus would only hum at her in a 'my work here is done' fashion, and he'd turn over on his side of the bed to sleep.

Damn she got lucky there.

But did it have to be Snape? Severus Snape? Professor Severus Snape? Sure the thought crossed her mind once or twice. He was, after all the only decent professor at Hogwarts that wasn't a ghost, or pint sized, it was only natural-though not natural enough that anyone mentioned it, but when it came to fantasizing about shacking up with a professor as all the girls had daydreamed about once or twice, Snape had been the only contestant unless you were someone like Eloise Midgen who fancied Flitwick.

Waking up next to him had been sobering, a feeling Hermione felt like she'd never get used to. His face was much softer when he was asleep, relaxed and almost peaceful. It made him look halfway acceptable, halfway nice. His lips, parted and still-save for when he swallowed in sleep, weren't pulled into the scowl he wore while awake. His breathing soft.

"It's rude to stare." His voice, raw with morning had betrayed him and Hermione snapped too, unaware she had been staring at all.

"Sorry." She pulled herself into a sitting position, clutching the bed spread to her chest, bending her knees up. She heard him shift ever so slightly then felt his fingers placed on the small of her back, rubbing gentle, sleepy circles on her skin. They sent an electric wave up her spine, her skin prickled though she wished it had not.

"What time is it?" He yawned and Hermione twisted her neck to her bed side table to see the clock.

"Just after eight."

Severus yawned again, his thumb left her back to stretch and her electric wave stopped when he disconnected from her, she inwardly hated herself for wanting it back, for enjoying the feeling and stared at his hand that fell to his lap as he sat up as she rested her head on her knees. As quickly as she blinked, those hands raised to his face and he dug at his eyes with his palms. His hair, oily and stringy from the workout in the night, had formed into knots that stuck out. There was a redness to his face she'd never seen before, making him appear almost healthy against the paleness she was used to. Without another word he removed himself from the bed, adjusting the legs of his boxer briefs he had slid on sometime after she had fallen asleep, and padded his way to the bathroom. She had to admit he wasn't repulsive, his form was taught having to stay fit for fighting, but not overly so to suggest he worked out any. His robes picked up by an invisible hand and flew past the foot of the bed, disappearing around the door. She glanced down at herself, noticing her own bare skin and blushed slightly as she realized her wand was in the other room, along with her discarded clothes. Having not expected to be without them, or even spending the night, she had them ready to go, ready to be picked up and carried with her after they got back from the ball so she could return to the Gryffindor Common Room and sleep in her own bed.

A hand went to her forehead, a headache forming, half from drink and half from the memories flooding back to her all at once. She winced as she remembered the ballroom, fully aware that Voldemort had watched her through the night, angry at herself for falling so easily into Severus's arms when he asked her to dance and how it was the only place she felt safe in that foreign place. The hazy dreams of speaking with the other wives, a few of which that were newly wed just like her though had wanted the union. She thought she remembered being forcefully pulled from the room as she burst into a fit of tears, Severus holding her hair back from her face as she became sick, a whispered and heated disagreement as she refused to stop drinking and Severus haughtily handing over another glass.

She refused to think anymore about it, noticing she smelled like him as her head tucked into her knees even deeper. She was goin to be sick again, her stomach churning, the room spinning when she attempted to raise her head. Slamming her eyes shut, she pulled the covers off of her and slipped from the bed to the floor, her legs fully capable of handling her weight now but unable to move herself as the floor felt like waves, not holding still enough to get a step in. She grabbed for the waste basket, pulling it between her knees and let her forehead rest along the edge.

"There's a remedy for that next to you." Severus spoke at almost a whisper, Hermione could make out some disappointment as well as his voice drifted from the doorway. "When you feel you can lift your head, may I suggest you take it. It would be my head if Minerva knew I'd let you get carried away."

Hermione raised a meek hand to signal she heard him, glad he didn't make his way in to help her. She'd take the potion, but not right now. She felt she deserved this, she would endure it for another hour or until her self pity wore out.

She was curled up on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, her head rested against Harry's shoulder and was thankful he let her keep it there. No longer sick, but tired, exhausted from the dancing, a symptom Severus's hangover cure couldn't fix. Ron sat next to her, her feet by his legs, and he pulled one into his lap to rub at her foot. It made her groan slightly as the massage felt great against her sore heel.

"Why do you reckon he stopped the war?" Ron asked when the silence became too much. "I know Seamus said he read somewhere—or maybe he heard it—either way, read it or heard it, he found out that Voldemort has just given up and accepted his fate that he'd never survive."

"Sounds like something the Quibbler would put out." Hermione said.

"Doesn't sound like him at all." Harry added. "More than likely he's seen another possible way and just needed time to plan around it, something more favorable for him."

"Maybe he's going into hiding." Ron chuckled.

"Why would he quit or hide when he has the Ministry? That much power gives him a gain, not a loss." Harry said and Ron rolled his eyes, sighing.

"It was just something I heard that seemed interesting to bring up is all, you know, get a laugh." Ron stopped massaging Hermione's foot and she stared at him, eyes narrowing, nudging him with her toes to continue.

"It's not a time right now for interesting tid-bits, or laughs, unfortunately. Sorry if my mind isn't on the lighter side of things." Harry said. "If we face the facts, we're pretty much doomed right now, he has a stronger army than we expected."

"An army stronger than we expected?" Ron rolled his eyes again. "Larger than we expected, yes. Strength? About the same."

"I think we should just take the time to enjoy the peace and each other's company while we have it right now." Hermione cut in, snuggling her head deeper into Harry's shoulder, finally pulling her foot from Ron who seemed to forget it was on his lap in the first place. She went ignored.

"Honestly, Harry. It sounds like you're almost hopeful for them."

"I'm hopeful for an end." Harry sighed. He looked at Hermione. "I'm sure Hermione's ready for a way out of this marriage she's gotten herself into. The faster to the end of the war, the faster she can be single and ready to mingle." He snorted at his own try at humor.

"How's that coming along?" Ron asked and Hermione waited a beat before shrugging.

"It's more of a mutual understanding right now."

"I still can't believe it actually happened." Ron clicked his tongue giving his head a quick shake. Harry had begun to glare at him.

"It wouldn't have if you protected Hermione like you were supposed to."

"Neither of us saw that spell coming."

"And I wonder why that was? From what I've heard it was an open area you were in, should have been easy to spot a wand in time to block it."

"Like I have eyes in the back of my head. What did you expect me to do, Harry? Detach my head and keep it spinning so I could see everywhere at once? That could very well have been me lying there instead."

"Yeah, and then you'd be the one married to Snape, right?"

The remark pulled a giggle out of Hermione, but Ron had crossed his arms over his chest and sat further down into the seat.

"Well I'm sorry, I can't help it if I can't think right under pressure. I'd like to see how you'd react if you were there instead."

Hermione growled and pushed herself upright. She didn't want to hear Harry and Ron fight anymore, her headache was returning and Harry wouldn't remain still enough to keep his shoulder comfortable anymore. She slipped on her shoes.

"Panic led me to be Mrs. Severus Snape." She told Ron. "Might want to work on that." She gave him a pointed look as he refused to look at her, and left through the portrait. Harry was quick to follow her, shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets as they fit side by side down the stairs.

"I'm sorry for not being there, Hermione."

"It's not your fault. You had your own battle going on."

"I just feel it could have been avoided had he been a little more attentive to his surroundings. He's infatuated with you, you know. We'll have to get him blinders."

"Nah, I'll just start using disillusionment charms around him." Hermione grinned. "Turn myself into an old Hag, one of those ugly ones."

"He mentioned you had nice skin once. You'll have to be sure to add a lot of puss and wrinkles."

"Nice skin, hmm?" Hermione smiled. She had spent many an hour staring at her reflection, scrutinizing her skin for any signs of bumps or blackheads almost as hard as she studied her books. It was nice to hear Ron had taken notice of her skin.

"I told Ron I was getting some lunch. Would you care to join me?" Harry asked when they reached the bottom step. Hermione looked down the hallway around her, having not picked a place to go before leaving the common room, just getting out of there if there was to be fighting. She smiled, about to accept his offer, but a curious shriek had captured there attention. It came from a classroom down the hall from them, sound deep and throaty, as if a man had screamed. They stepped cautiously toward the door, breathing slowing, watching each other with caution until they were able to hear more clearly; the door hadn't shut all the way, a crack deceiving the people inside looking for privacy. They recognized Severus's voice at once.

"You'll have to calm down." He said. "I can't understand if you don't."

"Is he safe? You said you would keep him safe, I heard a report that someone was caught and —" The other voice undoubtedly belonged to Lucius Malfoy. Hermione and Harry exchanged looks, leaning as close to the door as they could get without disturbing it.

"He's safe. The one caught was not him. I can assure you where we put him is reliable and spacious."

"Narcissa doesn't know what to do with herself. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened...Severus, I need you to promise me—"

"This is under control, you need to trust me."

The door swung open, Harry and Hermione standing there and unable to move away, unaware that the door would give way. Severus looked at the both of them, eyes trained on Harry as he stepped out followed by Lucius who straightened up, raised his head, acted more like the Malfoy Sr. they knew. Severus's eyes flicked to Hermione and his head tilted in a visible sign of disappointment before he turned to Lucius. They exchanged one silent look in which Lucius begged again with a handshake, and Severus ushered them down the hall unable to see if Lucius had left the building.

"He shouldn't be here." Harry said. Severus tossled him, pushing him forward.

"What was he doing here?" Hermione asked, looking over her shoulder, Severus's eyes still narrowed at her.

"That information concerns neither of you."

"With the war happening, a Death Eater in the school concerns us." Harry stated to which Severus slowed his steps, a hand reaching for Hermione to hold her back.

"A word with my wife, alone." He breathed. Harry stood there, head turning between the two of them. She didn't want Harry to leave and sent him a look, but Severus growled again.

"Isn't there some kind of mischief you could find yourself in?"

"I already have." Harry said. "Besides, Hermione will end up telling me anyway—"

"—Harry." Hermione gave him a warning, biting her lips as Severus stood straighter, an 'oh really?' eyebrow raising high over a dark eye. He dropped her arm and turned, Hermione undecided if she should follow Severus or stay with Harry until she turned around mouthing 'sorry,' and followed Severus.

She felt like a dog who had been caught tearing up a slipper, certain of some kind of punishment for having been found eavesdropping. He led her through the halls and down the musty staircase that led into the dungeons. She wasn't surprised they were headed back to his rooms, timid when she entered behind him, head still hanging. She braced herself for his lecture. She watched him through her eyelashes as he sat down in the rocking chair next to the fireplace and pulled up a newspaper from the table beside him, opening it up with a snap and crossed a foot over a knee. Lifting her head she continued to stand there, confused on his silence. When he turned the page, she cleared her throat.

"Professor?" She whispered. Severus didn't lower the paper, but instead spoke through it.

"What concerns Lucius is of no matter to you."

"I understand." Hermione nodded though he couldn't see it. She watched the paper again, it lowered and lifted as he continued reading.

"Um..." Her fingers fit together, holding her own hands as she was unsure if she was allowed to move. It was then his paper lowered just enough so he was glancing at her over the top.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" He purred, obviously annoyed with being interrupted.

"You said you wanted a word?"

"I did." Severus sighed, closing his paper, folding it up and putting it back on the table. He waved his hands at the available seating. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

Hermione danced slightly, her feet undecided about which sofa to pick, and chose the one that faced him most directly. When she was settled she looked at Severus expectedly.

"As my wife you're entitled to most information I know and I trust that which I tell you will not be spoken to those who aren't associated with You-Know-Who."

"Yes, sir."

"As such, anything you see not necessarily from me, but from any gatherings you may be attending, may not be repeated lest you know what's good for you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Severus nodded his head. That awkward silence returned. When he had grown tired of looking at her, his hand picked up his paper once more and his face disappeared behind it. Hermione drew in a breath and held it as she looked around the room. She let it out slowly, glancing back at the paper, waiting until her lungs were empty to speak. She wanted to make sure he had nothing else to say.

"Professor?" She asked finally. He turned the page.

"Hmm?"

"May I leave?"

"Only if its something you would like to do." He turned another page.

Slowly she stood up and softly stepped out of the room not seeing Severus lower the paper one more time to watch her leave.