Disclaimer:

J.K. Rowling owns the characters and the world in the following text is a derivative work of fan fiction, which the author has written for the sole purpose of enjoyment.

Prologue

1797, August

A crow's caw sailed through the turbulent August air. The wind ruffled the leaves of the Forbidden Forest and whistled through the castles open windows. It struck him, suddenly, that he could have been gone by now, or rather that he should have been gone by now. This was Voldemort's Britain, and he had no reason survive under it. He could have gone to the Americas or to his cousin in Denmark, even the Tropics didn't seem half bad.

"Are you listening, Severus?" Lucius Malfoy frowned over his teacup. That afternoon they were in Severus's drawing room above the headmaster's study. The room Hadn't been changed since Dumbledore's death, the upholstery the same pale blue that clashed with the crimson curtains in a way that reminded him of the dead headmaster.

"Care to repeat yourself?" Severus Snape said, wrenching his attention back to the conversation. Lucius Malfoy's attire was impeccable as ever, even enveloped in black. But, despite his outer grander he was developing grey circles around his eyes, and grey hair peppered his once blond head. He was almost slumping over his lap on the sofa.

"We were speaking of the Prince estate," Malfoy leaned forward, hands clasped of his knee.

"Ah yes, Halclair Abbey, What of it?"

"How does bachelorhood suit you?" he said in a non-sequitur that took Snape at first by surprise.

"Pardon?" said Snape, though he wasn't asking for amnesty.

"That. . . you know, certain traditions ought to be followed, as they pertain to man who has come into an inheritance. Severus. . . are you not want of a wife?" Malfoy said, coming to the point with more discomfort than he ought to. Snape nearly spit out his tea, but instead inhaled it, and doubled over coughing and laughing outright. Malfoy watched him with a smooth visage, a face very used to imparting bad news, though it did not seem that Snape had fully understood. Perhaps he thought himself the matchmaker, which was not the case.

"Lucius, you do amuse me," he said, regaining in his austere exterior. "Who put you up to this?"

Lucius opened his hands, "I am merely a concerned friend," and he smiled a politician's smile, "I have someone in mind with whom you would be compatible. As you know, married life has not been unkind to me, I would recommend it, my friend."

"You speak in nonsense. It's the Dark Lord, tell me I'm mistaken," snapped Snape. Malfoy's fragile resolve began to break and he could not seem keep up the pretense any longer. He sat there, for a good ten seconds, face suspended in pleasantry before slumping back over his teacup.

"He commanded me to convince you of it," he whispered to the gold rim.

"Why?" Snape asked, point blank.

"The Dark Lord does not reveal his motives."

"Not to you? Well count yourself as lucky," the window was pulling his eyes to the sky. The sun was setting on the other side of the castle at the closing day. What possible motive could he have- Snape couldn't think of it.

"There are several reasons, I believe," Lucius broke the silence, "the public doesn't trust him- doesn't trust Hogwarts or the ministry. As the headmaster, marrying could soften your image, make you seem. . . human."

"He has never been one to please the rabble," Snape hissed. This wouldn't make resistance any easier, The Dark Lord was sure to choose some woman who would be his willing spy.

Malfoy shook his head, "It's Selwyn. The Dark Lord wants him in his circle, and Selwyn"s daughter is near a spinster. Severus, The Dark Lord asks it of you, and bids me convince you. I must succeed."

"Selwyn? Surely you do not mean Montague?"

"Augustus, the elder, has kept himself locked away in his Manor, not taking one side or another. If you were to wed his daughter it would link him to The Dark Lord," Malfoy took another sip of tea and deposited the cup onto the saucer, "The dark needs a new wealthy benefactor, and Selwyn is that person. There's also the bloodline to consider. Please, my friend."

Were they friends? Mr Snape wouldn't have said he had any friends, but Lucius was the closest thing, and he would be punished if he failed. He considered whether he cared if Lucius was punished. He had lost his son, his dignity, and social status in the past two months. If Severus could help him by letting him have his way, he ought to. It was of course a terrible reason to wed, and the idea of faking his own death and leaving the country tempted him more and more at the moment.

"And why would Mr Selwyn or his daughter consent to such an arrangement?" he asked after some consideration.

"Severus, let me tell you of the young woman in question. Theodosia Selwyn is graceful, modest, clever enough to carry a conversation, and healthy as can be. The sort of wife I would have hoped. . ." this was at least in the region of truth. "Nevertheless, she has received few suitors, and-"

"Get to the point, Lucius. What is the witch's defect?" he asked. No well-to-do young witch would marry him, even with his new-found fortune and his new authority as Headmaster. No, for anyone to marry him, that woman must be equally flawed, at least in the eyes of the Lord Voldemort.

The Wind whistled past Theodosia's ears as her horse raced across the grounds of the Selwyn estate. Summer was in full swing, and that meant Madge was back from the Academy; Theodosia's days were no longer spent alone for every day was agony waiting for sister was far ahead of Theodosia on her white gelding, and as she caught up Madge slowed her gelding to a halt.

"I've missed this," said Madge, raising her chin to the breeze, her golden curls drifted out around her face, and somewhere along the ride she had lost her bonnet. Madge had a way of "losing" bonnets. They sat side by side, as they watched the grey clouds shift above.

"Riding, or rain clouds?"

"The estate, the riding, even the rain clouds," she replied with laughter in her voice. She slid from her saddle, and onto the tall grass and Theodosia followed suit. "I love my work, but this is home."

"I wish I were at the academy with you," Theodosia told her as they lead their horses to a little brook that twisted between a copse of birches. Madge looked at her, pity in her eyes.

"But are the rumours true? That a certain headmaster has come to call?" she said suddenly.

Theodosia's head snapped over to look at her. How could she have known that Severus Snape had come to call? It had only been two weeks ago. They had sat in the drawing room with her mother hovering oppressively in the next room. He intrigued her in a way, one moment courteous, and in another curt. Their conversation had ranged from Shakespeare to Hogwarts business. His favourite Shakespeare was Julius Caesar, and he liked his tea black. She thought sourly that if he proposed, she would accept. It was for the best- her mother said it was for the best.

"What did you hear?"

"Only thatthe Mr Malfoy has encouraged an engagement, and Severus Snape was seen leaving Hogsmeade last Saturday. A friend of mine is a cousin to Mrs Malfoy. It gets around."

"It's true," she said, a pink blush rose on her cheeks, as she trained her eyes on the burbling of the stream. For some time their embarrassed silence was filled with the pleasant sounds of summer. A crow's caw was heard from a branch overhead, before it spread her wings and took flight.

"Dosia," said Madge affectionately, "Mother says the two of you got on well."

"As well as anyone," she replied shortly, not taking her eyes for the stream.

"Well, what do you make of him?" Madge pressed.

"He is sophisticated, I guess, and in possession a liberal estate," she replied as best she could.

"Wealthy, educated, and in You Know Who's good graces," Madge counted the qualities off on her fingers. "I suppose the only thing missing is a pleasant countenance!" she laughed. Theodosia swatted her arm in playful chastisement.

"I do not find him so unpleasant," she said.

"You would not think so if he had been your schoolmaster," Madge said a little more seriously.

"I never was his student. It doesn't concern me."

"Haven't you heard of the Zabini engagement?" Madge smoothly changed the subject when she saw Theodosia was reticent to discuss the subject.

"How long did it last?" she asked digging the toe of her boot into the brook's mud.

"There were others?"

"Oh, Zabini's has had many an engagement," she smirked.

"Well, Pansy Parkinson is to be his wife, and if you think she would become betrothed to an unfaithful man, I cannot say that you know her," Madge said.

"Bet you it won't last the summer."

"You right, they'll elope before September!"

They mounted their horses and took off across the green. In the distance the Selwyn manor came into view, it was Elizabethan, with rust bricks and three imposing gables. A thestral drawn carriage was barreling up the drive, she recognised it as her father's by the Selwyn crest on the door.

"Is that father?" called Madge from behind her.

Theodosia, urging Aurora down the hillock. They ambled back to the stables, and met Theodosia's father in the manors entrance.

1797, September

Announcing the Marriage of Mr and Mrs Severus Snape:

On Saturday morning Mr Severus Snape, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry wed the formerly Miss Theodosia Selwyn, daughter to Augustus Selwyn.

The wedding ceremony took place in Kent, at the home of the bride as per tradition. There has been talk over the summer indicating that the Headmaster might take a wife, as Mr Snape has recently come into his inheritance of Halclair Abbey, the ancestral home of the Prince family. The couple has departed for the aforementioned Abbey for the duration of a fortnight before Mr Snape resumes his work as Headmaster. Guests wishing to call upon the couple shall find them at their home in the village of Enderby on the outskirts of Leicester.

Author's Note: So here it is, a prologue! I know it's been quite a while, but I've been revising and revisoning this fic. I even got a beta, so thank you to Thebestsamthing! You live up to your screen name.