It All Started with a Kiss

Chapter One - Ancient Law

"WHAT?" she screamed, jumping up. She started pacing, too. "You've got to be joking, Professor." She mumbled something to herself, and then stopped to face her teacher. "Please, say that you are pulling my leg."

Snape shook his head. "When a witch, on the day she becomes of age," he started, "kisses a wizard on his right cheek in public, she expresses her acceptance of a marriage proposal."

Hermione could only stare. "But... so what? You didn't propose, and thus there's nothing I could accept. Problem solved!"

"It's not that easy," Snape said. "It doesn't matter if I proposed. It's Ancient Wizarding Law. We are now officially engaged."

"No!" Hermione tried to focus on her breathing, tried to keep it even. "We will go and tell them."

Snape shook his head again. "Not an option. The kiss sealed a magical contract."

"Contract? I never knew there was a contract!"

"There wasn't." Snape sighed. That was what made Hermione understand the full extend of the 'situation'. Professor Snape never sighed in public. In fact, he never showed any emotion, except maybe hate.

She had to sit down. "I need to sit down," she said.

"Of course," Snape replied. "Do you need to lie down?"

"No, I bloody well don't! I need an explanation!"

"Miss Granger," he hissed. "Calm down."

"I AM CALM!"

Snape only curled his lip. "Of course." He went over to his desk and picked up a vial with a deep blue liquid inside. "Come on."

She followed him into his office and from there to his sitting room. On a normal day, she would have stopped and admired the huge portrait that hung above the mantelpiece. When she had first seen it, she had stared at it in awe. It showed a magnificent landscape - green meadows, soft hills in the background, a small lake in the foreground, and a deep forest on one side. But the most fascinating thing was the witch sitting on a rock near the lake. She was brushing her long, golden hair, and hummed quietly. The woman was beautiful - probably the most beautiful being she'd ever seen. Professor Snape had told her that the woman was Mother Nature impersonated, and everyone saw her in his own way.

"Drink."

She took the vial, but didn't drink the potion. "What is that?"

"Calming Potion. I insist," he added when she opened her mouth.

Glaring at him, Hermione downed the vial in one huge gulp and immediately started coughing. Snape merely rolled his eyes.

"Sit down."

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. He would be good at playing Simon Says, she thought, almost giggling like a fool. God, what did he put into that potion?

"Now listen, Miss Granger. And don't interrupt me. You can ask questions later."

She nodded.

"Around the time when Hogwarts was founded, the Magical World was formulating a sort of code of conduct. All rules and regulations were written down and sealed off by magic. They could not be broken." Snape sighed again, and went over to a cabinet, taking out a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a glass and downed it. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead, she started to bite her lip nervously.

"One section was about marriage and courtship. The age of consent for a woman was thirteen, but it was raised to fifteen, and later to sixteen. If a lady was old enough, she could be courted by any male of proper status and age. However, until she turned seventeen and therefore was old enough to be married, the proposals were kept a secret, and the bride got to chose on the day of her birthday. Usually, her family had a feast, and every suitor was invited. The lady chose with a kiss," he added in a mock voice and poured himself another glass. "The law was never revoked, and is thus still binding us to it. Whether I did propose or not is not a question, because by law, you chose me and thereby practically said I did."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Is there no way we could... undo it?"

"No."

"And what if we told them that I didn't know and-"

"No."

"Or if I said I-"

"No."

She was close to exploding. "Professor Snape, with all due respect - this might be a joke for you, but I fail to see the funny part. A thousand year old law is trying to dictate my life, and I will not let that happen."

Snape laughed bitterly. "Do you think I wanted that? You kissed me!"

"Argh! I didn't know!"

He eyed her disdainfully, and said, "Yes, I suppose you wouldn't, considering who your parents are."

Hermione drew in a breath. "Professor," she sharply hissed, "I truly regret that I ever respected you, and saw you as something different than the slimy, hateful, disgusting git everyone else seems to see."

She knew he was surprised, but he didn't show it. She didn't even want to know if she'd hurt his feelings (Feelings, her inner self snorted. That greasy slimeball doesn't have any feelings!). And she felt a slight satisfaction because she'd managed to insult him and he hadn't shouted at her. Yet. So she decided to make a quick exit and leave him to brood. She rummaged for the book.

"I will leave now, sir. Don't expect me to talk to you again. To me, the subject is closed." She threw the book onto the sofa and turned, storming out without looking back.

***

Hermione hurried to get to her first class of the day, Transfiguration. She would be late, but she was sure that Professor McGonagall would understand.

While she was on her way, she went over their conversation again. What had he said? That she would be Mrs. Snape by the end of September?

She snorted. "I think not," she muttered to herself, entering the corridor that led to the Transfiguration classroom. She didn't know if she should laugh, be angry, cry, or just forget everything that happened this day. Maybe all of these.

Hermione took another deep breath and straightened her robe. Then she knocked on the classroom door.

"Enter," she heard Professor McGonagall's voice from inside.

Fighting back the slightly queasy feeling in her stomach, she opened the door and went into the classroom. Even as she heard the whispers start, she held her head high and looked Professor McGonagall squarely in the eye.

"Professor, please excuse my tardiness. I was-" She stopped. It wasn't that she had wanted to stop. She just couldn't go on. "I mean, I talked to-"

Again, her mouth wouldn't open again. She had wanted to say that she'd talked to Snape. But apparently, her body refused to follow that order.

The bastard! He makes a fool out of me with his stupid little charms!

She was furious. How dare he hex her? How dare he make her look stupid?

"Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall's voice was as stern as ever, but Hermione could clearly see that her favourite professor was dying to ask what everyone else seemed so keen on knowing. But she hoped that the professor wouldn't do so in front of everybody.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Take a seat, Miss Granger. And come to me after classes," the older witch said, pointing to Hermione's seat. Relief flooded her, but she was still aware that every eye followed her as she went to her seat.

Silently, she took her quill and parchment, and started to take notes as McGonagall continued the lesson.

"'Mione," Ron whispered urgently from her right.

She looked at him.

"What is going on?" She could see his disbelief, and confusion.

"Not now," she hissed. Besides, I can't talk about it.

Two minutes later, Harry, who sat on her left side, nudged her gently. She ignored him. He nudged again.

"What?"

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall stopped her lecture. "Would you care to share that with the rest of the class?"

"Professor, I assure you I didn't-" she started, but was interrupted by someone shouting from the back.

"When's the wedding?"

The class burst out laughing.

Hermione, refusing to be embarrassed, glared at them.

"Careful, Hermione, you might have caught Snape's glare while you were snogging this morning!" a Ravenclaw said.

Hermione scowled at them, but that only made things worse. Professor McGonagall called for silence, but she couldn't stop the sniggers and whispers. Hermione just wished the ground would swallow her up. And if that wasn't an option, she at least wanted to be able to say his name. That way, she would be able to defend herself.

That day, she hated Transfiguration. She was just glad that it was Friday, which meant that, after Transfiguration, she only had to get through Arithmancy. For the first time, she couldn't enjoy the class, and it was all Snape's fault.

Bastard! she thought fervently.

***

As soon as they were dismissed, Hermione started for the dungeons, only to be cornered by Harry, Ginny and Ron in the Entrance Hall. They dragged her into an empty classroom and warded the door.

"Hermione!"

"WHAT?"

"You and - SNAPE!!!"

"Yes, Ron, I heard you. No need to shout," Hermione said, sighing deeply. She sat down on the teacher's desk and stared at the far wall.

"Hermione, where were you after breakfast?" Harry entered her field of vision from the right, a worried frown on his face. Together with Ron's outraged and Ginny's disbelieving expressions, it was enough to make her want to cry.

"I was in-"

Great, she thought sourly. What else can't I say?

"Yes?"

"I can't!" Her shoulders slumped down and soon, her head followed. She looked just as she felt - exhausted, confused, and at the verge of tears.

"You can't what?" Ginny asked. She came up beside Hermione and gently put an arm around the older girl.

"Talk."

"Why not?"

She tried to speak, but the words "Because Professor Snape hexed me" just wouldn't come out. Helplessly, she looked at Ginny.

"You can't tell," Ginny said, nodding understandingly.

But Hermione made a decision. She needed to talk to Snape.

"I need to go," she said, and left her friends in confusion and worry.

***

Hermione went into the dungeons, and searched for Snape. But when he didn't open after ten minutes, she figured he wasn't in his chambers. That left the Great Hall.

On her way, she passed several groups of students, who all started giggling and pointing at the same time. She ignored them.

Then she stood in front of the doors and prepared herself to face a hall full whispering students and professors, and the man she had vowed not to talk to again.

This is so unreal, she thought, and pushed the doors open.

Everyone watched her as she approached the Head Table, her eyes locked on Snape's. She was just glad she didn't trip.

As soon as she stood in front of him, every whispered conversation had died away, and it was dead silent in the Great Hall. Albus Dumbledore was the only one who was still eating, although even he watched the unlikely couple out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he said, using his voice as a weapon. It was so soft that one could mistake it for a whisper, but Hermione knew better than to trust it.

She couldn't speak. She opened her mouth, but every time she started to say something, she couldn't. He can't be serious!

Angrily, Hermione glared at him (and everyone else), and took out quill and parchment. She wrote: Take this damn hex off of me, or *I* will hex you. After a moment's consideration, she added you bastard and handed the note to Snape.

He read it and - shook his head.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" she asked. Ah, as long as I don't try to use his title or name, I *can* talk to him, she figured. And I can't say anything about him to others.

"I meant no, I won't," he said, and picked up his fork again, clearly dismissing her.

Her eyes narrowed, and she prepared herself to shout, when she was interrupted - once again - by a yell out of the crowd. She was sure it came from Slytherin table.

"What, Granger, he doesn't want you any more?"

Hermione bit her lip. I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry. She repeated it over and over again. Not in front of them. I won't.

She could feel she was losing the battle. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, and she heard various other remarks that didn't improve matters. The laughter grew louder.

Life just wasn't fair. She hadn't done anything wrong, and yet she was being punished in the worst way imaginable.

She was used to being the laughing stock because of her hair, or her bossy know-it-all attitude. Everyone was making fun of that, even her friends. But that was something she didn't take personally, because it wasn't something she couldn't change. She could always cut her hair, or use charms and spells to keep it in place. She could start wearing more feminine clothes, and use make-up. She could stop lecturing people on rules and start talking about boys and music. But she didn't want to, so it didn't matter to her.

But this, this was different. She hadn't known about this stupid law or the consequences of a little thank you kiss. It wasn't her fault, and it just wasn't fair that it was all happening to her.

Then suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm. She hadn't realised that Snape had left his place and now stood next to her.

"Hermione," he said. She looked at him, expecting to see his usual half-mocking smirk that he reserved for Gryffindors, or at least his normal scowl. But instead, he looked at her with concern in his eyes. She was even more confused.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Immediately, the Hall fell silent again. No one had ever heard the Potions Master utter an apology - and to a Gryffindor(!) student.

"We should probably talk about this somewhere else," he suggested. She only stared at him. "Come on." She let him take her hand and lead her to one of the side doors.

"Oh, and Summers, that's one week detention with Filch," Snape shouted over his shoulder to a Slytherin fifth year.

Then they were, once again, one their way into the dungeons.

***

"I'm sorry," he said again, once they entered his living room. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

She only nodded. She was obviously still a bit upset. He didn't blame her. They had been awful, and if it had been like that all morning, he really owed her a lot more than just an apology.

Severus drew his wand and muttered "Finite Incantatem", pointing it at Hermione. "I only wanted to prevent any gossip. I didn't know that it would be that drastic. I'm sorry."

"Yes, you already said that!"

He was surprised. She wasn't upset anymore, he guessed. More like furious. But surely he, the most feared teacher at Hogwarts, wouldn't be intimidated by a silly girl that thought he was a 'slimy, hateful, disgusting git', would he?

"Why did you say that, by the end of the month, I would be... that I'd be your... you know," she finished lamely.

"Because it's true," Severus replied calmly. He could only imagine the things she was feeling concerning their engagement. She probably assumed he was hating it, too. But contrary to public belief, he didn't loathe the Gryffindor witch. He respected her intellect and admired her skill. He wasn't as opposed to the idea to marry her as she seemed to be. But of course he wouldn't tell her.

"Well, explain it to me. Since I'm just a 'foolish little girl' you surely wouldn't expect me to understand your very cryptic remarks," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

He smiled inwardly. She's pouting. I can't believe it.

"The kiss sealed a magical contract, as I said, and it can only be broken by death. I hope I assume correctly that you don't want to die." She nodded. "Neither do I. So we will be forced to fulfil the contract's conditions."

"I understand that," she said, "but what about the ultimatum?"

"Wizarding contracts are to be fulfilled until the next full moon." He picked up his calendar from the desk and threw it over to her. "The next full moon is September 29. So we'll have to marry on the 29^th at the latest."

"Ten days," she whispered, shaking her head at the absurdity of the situation. "And what if we just don't? If we ignore it?"

He shook his head. "We can't. The law would force us."

"What do you mean? The Aurors would come, gag us and drag up to an altar where we would be forced to say 'I do', being held at wand point?" She smiled grimly, and sat down on the sofa.

"No, of course not. But we would be outcasts." He took a seat opposite her.

She raised an eyebrow in imitation of one of his trademark expressions. She didn't quite manage, but he understood her nonetheless. They were already outcasts in a way. And ex-Death Eater and a know-it-all bookworm. But what he was talking about was far worse.

"They would expel us from the magical world," he said calmly, his eyes fixated on her.

Her head snapped up. "What? They would... but they can't. I don't..."

"Believe me, Miss Granger. I would very much like things to be what they were, but that is impossible. What we can do now is to make the best of it."

"We don't have a choice, do we?" she asked, her tone resigned.

He could only agree.

End Chapter One