Chapter Text
In no time at all Hermione found herself bundled with a warm blanket around her shoulders, another on her lap, seated in an unusually plush leather chair near the fire with a cup of tea in her hand, a small china plate of sandwiches awaiting her on the side-table to her right.
Severus was settled in a matching chair, facing hers, dark eyes scanning her.
“You look like you're expecting me to either faint or bolt out the door,” she observed.
“How are you feeling?”
She bit her lip. The urge to prevaricate, to say, ‘oh fine, of course,’ was strong. She'd spent a lifetime assuring people she was okay, when she was not, in fact, okay at all.
Instead she offered up something closer to the truth. "Floaty. maybe? A bit dazed. But not in any danger of passing out." she offered him with a little smile.
“Mmm. Eat, drink. Do you need something stronger?”
She noted the whisky in his hand. "I don't know, do I?" Was there some bad news he needed to impart? "The test went well... didn't it?"
“Results unlike anything I'd imagined.”
She shot him a look of irritation that soothed his jangling nerves more than any platitudes could have. If she was growing impatient with him, she was, indeed, going to be just fine.
“I'm not trying to be opaque, Hermione. There is simply more research to be done before we reach any conclusions.”
“Fine, but you must have some ideas about what we saw. The different colors, the locations... how those line up with the positions in a Queen's court. Did Ars Obscurae specify much?”
“Your crown lit up quite spectacularly under the Grand Test - usually associated with the Steward's position I believe. Or your Mage, perhaps. Your heart was also, remarkably, quite bright.”
“That's..... what? Consort?”
Was that hope he heard in her voice, or just his wishful thinking?
“Possibly. Consort, husband, a very close bond with your bodyguard perhaps. All possibilities. This isn't a precise science.”
She nodded, chewing on a sandwich and sipping her tea, before putting it down, and placing her hand over her abdomen. “And... this one?”
His breath caught, noting the position of her hand. “I believe the pinpricks of light we saw indicate the potential for children. We may need to compare with anyone else you Test with, to really ascertain exactly what we saw.”
“But those two really bright spots?”
“If I had to guess -- and make no mistake, this is speculation, Hermione,” his voice was so stern, that she sat up at attention, "Queens. I believe, what we saw there, those two bright sparks... two little Queens.”
Her mouth gaped before her gaze shot down to her own abdomen.
“Only the potentiality, of course. Everything we saw, the incantation I used, it was to reveal potential, but it's not a divination. There are no certain outcomes. It revealed the potential between us. Your results with other wizards will be different. There may be an even higher potentiality with another..." he trailed off, scowling into the fire.
She marveled down at herself. Two little Queens -- the potential of them, anyway, lying within her. Or, more precisely, lying within her and this enigmatic man across from her. A vivid indication of the potentiality of their joining, but also a thing that might also never come to pass. The idea left her feeling more bereft than she could have anticipated.
She hadn't given much thought to children beyond believing she would have one or two, someday, with some unknown man.
When she'd begun her research into the Old Ways and the idea of forming her own court, any concerns of future children or marriage had taken a backseat to the concerns of carving out a safe space for herself in their new reality, post-war. Now it seemed, she might be forced to consider the possibility, sooner, rather than later.
Snape stood abruptly, moved to the work table a few feet away, and opened the old Grimoire they’d been referencing once more. He flipped through as though searching for a specific page, and then upon finding it, scanned it repeatedly while muttering incoherently.
He pulled a parchment near, quill poised, as he inquired, “Who have you thought of, for your Court? I have some suggestions, but I think it's time we make a list of potential candidates.”
“What happened to having time?” She asked. His lips compressed in a hard line, staring down as if he might burn a hole through the page of the book in front of him, and she pressed, “What aren't you telling me?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture she wasn't sure she'd ever witnessed before. “Your Descent… the Offering…. it must happen at a new moon. The next new moon is less than a week away. She nodded, willing him to continue. “That gives little time to meet with prospective candidates, and test with each of them, deciding who you would like present at your offering.”
“No one can join my court after that?”
“They can. But the bond will be most powerful if we combine the rituals -- Your Offering, immediately followed by a bonding with any wizards you choose for your Court.”
“Okay, but I don't see any reason why this can't be postponed a month, or longer, even. Is there some threat I don't know about? I understand the amassing of power going on around us as much as you do — all the hidden courts that are forming— but I don't see a month or two impacting what's happening here.”
“This is, once again, speculation, you understand...“ he raised dark eyes to hers, pleading for her to understand, “and it's possible that there is more time than I think...”
“Please, just say it. Whatever it is.”
"The two Queens we saw," his face tightened and she could see the struggle to choose his words carefully, "Or perhaps not two Queens. Perhaps two ovum nearing their time."
"Their time?"
“When do you ovulate next, Hermione?”
"Excuse me?" She sputtered. Really. After everything they'd discussed today, done today, this shouldn't be the point that shocked her, but really.
His penetrating stare bore into her, allowing no prevarication. "I appreciate that this is a delicate topic, but you wish for transparency from me, I believe?" At her stiff nod, he continued, “I think, based on what I've read here, that the next time you ovulate, either one or both of the tiny potentialities we saw there today —Queens or not— well, I believe that intense brightness may indicate that one or both of those ovum may be released at that time. There seems some evidence here that the brightness can indicate either imminent ovulation with the potential for offspring, or a Queen. Possibly both of those things at once.”
"I see." And she did. Severus Snape didn't want to miss his chance to impregnate her, and it appeared that chance might come to pass very, very soon. If she allowed it.
"Do you?"
She jumped up to pace the room, no longer cold in the slightest. "Merlin's Balls, this is not how I expected today to go"
"Hermione. Please, sit. I didn't mean to alarm you, but you must know what is at stake here. You must be fully informed."
She stopped and faced him. "And I appreciate that, I really do. But you're asking me, in essence, if I'm prepared to be impregnated within the next fortnight,” she gestured wildly at him, “by you, I might add." She ran a shaky hand through her hair, moving again to the far side of the room, "And that's not to mention gathering other members for my Court, completing a Testing with each of them, holding my Offering to the Darkness, and performing whatever bondings are necessary with each wizard…," She turned back to him, "I presume that if the bonding happened while I was ovulating that would be ideal for conception?"
"It seems you've grasped the situation, yes." And damn him, why did he look so very calm right now. How dare he?
"You seem remarkably unworried." She could hear the accusation in her voice. "But what if I'm not ready?"
"Then nothing will happen." At her skeptical look he continued, "Really, do sit down. None of this is happening without you, Hermione, without your Willfully intending it to be so. Do you see? None of it, the Offering, the Bondings, even conception in this case, none of it can occur unless you will it so."
“And what if... what if we miss the.... window of opportunity?"
"I never expected a chance to have children, Hermione. Not after…. Well. The past is the past. My life has not been conducive to the expectation of a family of any kind."
She sat, finally, and some of the tension drained from his body when she did. But after watching her nibble away at her thumbnail for a full minute he was sure the question wasn't anywhere close to settled in her mind.
"What is it? I can see something is still worrying you."
"You'd still do this with me? Even if it means no children?"
He moved toward her, once more dropping to a knee beside her and lifting her palm. "Hermione, this is a vow, you understand? I've already given you my pledge that I am with you in this. I meant it." And as before, he dropped a kiss to her inner wrist. The gesture both courtly and intimate.
She drew a long, deep breath. "Likely a week from now, I think." At his sharp look she continued, "I'll have to check, of course! But, uhm… soon. I've just finished my cycle." The words brought a flush to her face that neither of them would have predicted. "So, yeah. I'll be ovulating likely within the week."
She didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up, though his words belied the excitement she could see there. “You don’t have to decide this now.”
“And I’m not. I’m not promising anything. But I want to understand all of the possibilities.” Her mind was already calculating, running the Arithmancy on the possible outcomes.
“And do you feel ready to approach anyone else? To attempt the Testing with them?”
Was she mistaken, or had it cost him something to suggest it? She wasn’t ready to tell him about all of the other wizards she was considering, but he already knew about one of them.
“I have an appointment for tea with Lucius Malfoy tomorrow, and I plan to broach the topic with him then.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “You still doubt if you should choose him.”
“Am I still projecting that much?”
“No. Not in that way. Your thoughts are closed to me once more.”
“Well, you’re right. I’m questioning my sanity, considering hitching my wagon to the Malfoys. Might as well join the mob.” she huffed.
“He’s powerful, and connected, Hermione. And his wealth could bring any resources you had need of, almost without limit.”
“I know.”
“And it’s fair to say he’s very interested in joining your Court.”
“You believe that.”
“After telling me how you discovered that book… yes. And knowing Lucius as I do… undoubtedly, yes.”
“He’s…. He can’t be that bad of a wizard, right? If you’re friends with him again?”
“Lucius is many things, Hermione. Calculating. Cunning. Fiercely loyal. Charming when it suits him. But you know all of that. You’ve been around him a fair bit over the last few years, haven’t you?”
“It’s the charming part that worries me.”
Severus regarded her for long moments before replying, “You think he’ll use it to manipulate you.”
“Honestly? I don’t think he can help himself.”
“You don’t trust yourself.” The words were a bare statement of fact, and that grated on Hermione more than any hint of accusation could have.
“What?”
Severus could tell she was growing cross with him, but she needed to acknowledge this. To understand, going in, just where her fears and weaknesses lay when it came to Lucius Malfoy.
It was his duty to ensure she went into this as open-eyed as possible. If he was going to serve in her Court — to best serve her, he owed her this clarity. He would provide the sharp reflection she couldn’t look away from.
“You don’t trust yourself around Lucius. You don’t trust your perceptions of him. You worry that he’ll charm you and you’ll…succumb to him.”
Hermione could not restrain herself from sticking her tongue out at him, and, with a little scowl, she pushed up from her chair once again, this time heading for the door to the lab.
But before she left she turned back to him, and he saw with relief that she didn’t look angry, just bemused, if anything.
“You know, even after all these years, you can be a real prat when you know you’re right.”
He chuckled at her declaration. “I’m am aware.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” The uncertainty in her voice caught at him.
“Come to me after you see Lucius, Hermione.”
She nodded, looking a bit relieved, if he wasn’t mistaken.
“I’d like to borrow the Grimoire tonight.”
She needed to spend some quality one-on-one time with Ars Obscurae herself. She trusted Severus, implicitly. And yet the researcher in her knew that multiple eyes were always better. That every witch or wizard brought their own prejudices and perceptions to every work they encountered. Perhaps she would see something differently than he did.
Severus, for his part, didn’t hesitate. He swiftly wrapped the old Grimoire in a charmed piece of leather that would keep it safe from harm, and brought it to her.
“You don’t need to ask, Hermione. My library and resources are at your disposal.”
She took the large volume from him, and clutched it tight to her chest. “Thank you, Severus.”
And with one last piercing look in his direction she disapparated, leaving only the crackling electricity of her presence in his space behind.