The Lesser Of Two Evils

The Lesser Of Two Evils

Written in response to "The Marriage Law" Challenge on WIKTT.

Chapter Two - Making Efforts

His wedding night found Severus a nervous wreck. He had brought her to his childhood home, a two-room house in Hogsmeade which he absolutely detested, with a basement remodelled as a Potions Laboratory as an only redeeming quality, and he had consoled himself that maybe, with time, they would find a way to ignore each other altogether.

He had led her into the house's only bedroom, intent on explaining where everything was and that he could be found in the living-room should she need anything. But he hadn't anticipated the look in her eyes. Frightened, as a cornered animal that knows it's been trapped. Frightened, slightly nauseous and completely hopeless. She had been expecting he would validate his claim on her with or without her consent, and had been steeling herself to endure it. To endure him. Severus didn't know exactly why he had felt so hurt, but the fact remained that he had. She had absolutely no idea of the sacrifice it represented for him to have gotten married, had she? He hadn't expected gratitude, but it would not go amiss to know that she did not think him a monster. Unfortunately, that was clearly not the case. He had been aware of the pure loathing dripping from his voice.

"The bathroom is to your left. You are to cook your own food and clean your own messes. This is not Hogwarts and there are no house elves here to do your bidding. You are not to leave this house unsupervised under any circumstance. You are already enough of a target as it is. You are not to disturb me unless the house is on fire. You will respect my privacy in the living-room as much as you expect me to respect yours in this bedroom. The kitchen is neutral ground and you may choose to eat your meals there or here. You will not eat in my living-room and I will not eat in your bedroom. The basement is my laboratory and is therefore off-limits to you - I will not have you blowing the house up by having you interfere with my potions. Tomorrow I will begin adding a library to the house. That should take the better part of a week for the magic to hold. When it is complete I shall move the books there and you may consider it neutral ground as well. You are not to take a lover. I am sorry if that disappoints your teenaged libido, but it is a risk we cannot afford right now. I will inform you when that situation changes. When the Summer holidays are over you will have free reign over the living-room as well. I will not come to this house then. You will inform me or the Headmaster when you need to go to the muggle world for any reason, so that adequate security measures may be taken. I believe that will be all. Good night, Miss Granger."

He had left her with the same words as the night before, although in a far more scathing tone, and now here he was, with a glass of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, wondering if it really had been too much to ask that she thought of him as someone not inherently evil. Apparently yes.

His sofa was too hard and lumpy by far, but he took no notice. He hadn't expected to have his feelings hurt by the opinion of a teenaged girl he didn't even like.

---

Watching him leave, Hermione had been too stunned to know what to think. Or what to feel, for that matter. Relief that he hadn't decided to play the husband. Anger at his comments about a lover and house-elves. Gratitude that he was granting her her full privacy. And the tiniest bit of shame for having assumed the worse about him. She was just beginning to realise that he disliked the situation exactly as much as she did; there was no lingering satisfaction on his part in having full legal control over the 'insufferable know-it-all'. The thought gave her some comfort as she climbed into the unfamiliar bed.

---

Hermione spent the next week almost completely alone. She did as she had been told that first night, cooking and caring only for herself, and she hardly even saw Severus. By the end of the week she felt ready to be committed to a mental institution. Her new husband might not be the abusive type, but he was certainly making up for it by making her feel trapped. Then, just as she thought she could take no more, he showed up in the kitchen and acknowledged her presence with a curt 'Miss Granger'. That was somehow the last straw. Unable to control herself she lunged at him, punching his chest in pointless fury.

"You bastard!"

"Miss Granger, control yourself!", he replied, astonished.

"You stupid, useless bastard!"

"MISS GRANGER!", he roared.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!", she bellowed and, all of a sudden, she was no longer hitting him but sobbing into his chest. "Don't you see? I'm not even 'Miss Granger' anymore... that stupid marriage contract took care of that... they wouldn't even let me keep my name... and you hate me so much you can't even look at me, and there is no one else to talk to and... and... and soon I'll stop existing altogether, and there won't be any more Hermione either, just 'that crazy woman next door'... and you didn't even let me keep my job..."

She said something more, but it was too muffled by her own sobs and the fabric of his shirt for Severus to understand. He was used to spending his summers in total solitude, never leaving his basement except to perform the most basic of necessities, and never leaving the house unless his food or supplies stock were lacking. Summers were the only time when he could do some research relatively unperturbed, disrupted only by summons and subsequent reports to Grimmauld Place. Which meant he had been decidedly less than happy to spend a week of that precious time doing 'foolish wand waving' in order to add an extra division to the house for her benefit. Yes, only for her benefit - he was quite comfortable with having all of the books in the living-room, thank you very much. She had been forced into that marriage, true, but he had been forced even more: at least she was protecting herself. So, if he had ever foreseen such an outburst from his unwanted wife, he would have felt it would be more than justified to snap at her as if she were nothing more than a snivelling first year.

Or, at least, that had been the theory. The truth of the matter was something else entirely.

The truth of the matter was, having heard most of her outburst and seen the haunted look in her eyes, he felt compelled to attempt to place himself in her shoes. And he had to admit they were decidedly uncomfortable ones. She might not be an overly social creature, but she had always had her two foolhardy friends to keep her company, and now she had been locked up in a horrid house for a week, with no one to talk to and nothing to do, married to a man she despised and that was twenty years her senior, and she hadn't even been allowed to retain the use of her own name, as she would have in the muggle world. Here, when a woman married, she became Mrs. Husband and that was that. Of course she might still present herself as Hermione Granger Snape, but most people would disregard the Granger altogether and just file her under 'Hermione Snape'. It was lucky enough that he doubted anyone would ever call her Mrs. Severus Snape.

He made an awkward attempt at placing his arms around her.

"Miss... Hermione." She looked up at that and he felt encouraged by the lack of revulsion in her eyes.

"Hermione", he tried again, "I can assure you you will not cease to exist. I am very sorry you weren't allowed not to take my name, it was not my decision. Just another one of the Ministry's idiotic policies. And the reason I didn't let you keep your job was not to affront you, but to protect you. You have no idea of the danger you are in, have you?" His voice softened and he took her face in both hands, looking her straight in the eye and willing her to believe him. "And I don't hate you, you foolish girl."

His words brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes and, for a moment, he wondered what he had done wrong. Then she threw herself into his arms and said "Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Severus felt strangely rewarded that she seemed so ready to believe and trust him. He held her in silence until the last of her tears had vanished, and then stepped away.

"I had come to the kitchen in hopes of finding you. There is something that might lighten your burden."

Hermione looked at him expectantly. The amount of gratitude that flooded her was immeasurable. It seemed her husband was willing to make an effort to make her life less miserable after all, which was far more than anything she could have expected. She gave a hesitant half-smile and followed to discover that, on the previously empty wall that sat between 'her' bedroom and 'his' living-room, now stood a door that led into the promised library. She walked into it with awe. Books lined every wall from top to bottom, with a fireplace as only exception. That and three empty shelves. She looked at him questioningly.

"I assumed you had books of your own that you might want to place with the rest. I can enlarge the room if they don't fit."

The Gryffindor witch looked around in wonder. He had managed to fit in two comfortable-looking armchairs, a desk and a simple chair so that they might do some research, and... her smile brightened considerably.

"Thank you, sir. I know this must have taken a lot of your time and patience, I... it's perfect. Thank you."

Amazing. Half an hour ago she seemed ready to kill him, and yet now all she appeared to be able to do was thank him. And that, albeit unknowingly, was the moment when Severus Snape decided to forgive his wife what she had so obviously thought of him on their wedding night. She seemed willing to trust him now, at least a little...

"Hermione, even though not under the best of circumstances, we are married. I believe that entitles you to at least call me Severus. And you are quite welcome. I shall be downstairs if you need me."

---

He had left her with a smile on her lips, but her newfound comfort was short-lived. A fortnight more passed, during which Severus seemed to be doing his best to avoid her. Their only true common ground was the library, since they hardly ever met in the kitchen, and he had proven repeatedly that he would rather leave that haven than be in her presence. He did so every time she entered the room, in fact. When it happened for the umpteenth time, Hermione felt compelled to speak. She hadn't even intended to remain in the library, only to fetch a good book to read in her bedroom, in a pathetic attempt to ignore the summer Sun beckoning her outside, but the minute she had set her foot past the doorway, the Potions Master got up from the armchair as if he had been stung.

"My research needs tending to. Good day, Hermione."

He set his book carefully on the shelf and then made haste to the door. He had almost made it out when Hermione finally spoke.

"Am I really that horrid to be around?"

He turned. "What??"

"Or are you just afraid I'll start asking a million questions and not let you have a moment's peace, professor? You're driving me insane! Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't just go muggle. I'm sure it would spare us both some pain."

All throughout her tirade her eyes had refused to meet his, and now they were focusing quite intently on a point just above his left shoulder. It was obvious to Severus that his wife wasn't expecting an answer, and that she hadn't even planned on speaking. It was also obvious that her comment about 'going muggle' wasn't entirely the offspring of frustration. He approached her carefully.

"Hermione, of course you're not horrid to be around." She was staring at the ground now, and Severus placed his hand on her chin, forcing her to finally meet his eyes. Hermione felt taken aback by the honesty he seemed to be trying to imprint in his gaze and voice. "I merely assumed you would prefer to be left alone. I do not presume or strive to be enjoyable company. And it is still Severus."

Her eyes showed clear astonishment. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have given you permission to do so if I didn't."

"Not that. That you thought I'd rather be alone than with you."

He seemed confused. "Solitude is preferable to poor company."

"And does that apply to me?", she asked in a small voice.

"Regardless of what you might believe, Hermione, I do not find your company unbearable. It is actually quite stimulating on the rare occasions you can refrain your unquenchable curiosity to a moderate level."

"Then... why did you assume I would feel differently towards you?"

Once again he looked confused. "You... do not?"

"Why would I? You're one of the most intelligent people I've ever met, and you know so much... I could only learn from you!"

Now here was a turn of events Severus hadn't expected. That was how she saw him? Intelligent and knowledgeable? He felt a part of him that he thought had died before his tenth birthday stir back to life. The part that craved recognition from someone - anyone. And, for the first time since he could remember, that part of him was satisfied. His lips twitched upwards ever so slightly.

"Well, Hermione, it would appear that we have been assuming far too much, wouldn't you agree?"

She laughed nervously. "Far too much."

"It wasn't merely an excuse, though. My research does need tending to." Her face fell. "But you would be... welcome to join me downstairs if you'd like."

"I'd like that very much... Severus."