Disclaimer: I wish I was JK Rowling. Maybe then I'd be making some money instead of…not.

Chapter 3 - The Fruit of the Dungeons

Hermione walked into the Great Hall for breakfast in a daze. She felt like she was detached from herself. She supposed this was a side effect of trying to pretend like everything that she'd heard in the Headmaster's office was happening to some other girl, in some other place. But the sad truth remained that she had just signed away her life, her freedom… to Professor Snape, the bat of the dungeons.

And what did that make her? The fruit of the dungeons? Then again, Snape was far more likely to be a vampire bat than fruit bat. Oh Merlin, the dungeons. She should've realized before that they'd have to live together, and she was certain Snape would not agree to move into the Head Girl's rooms. She hoped he had windows in his chambers. She hoped he had heat. The entire place was probably covered in Slytherin memorabilia. What was she getting herself into?

She had barely said two words to the man, and already she was beginning to agree with Harry and Ron's opinions about him. Oh Merlin, again… Harry and Ron. There they were, waving her over cheerily, the picture of your standard Snape-hating Gryffindors. How was she going to tell them?

She sat down wearily and grabbed a piece of toast, lavished it with butter, then suddenly found she had absolutely no appetite to speak of. She went for her standard morning cup of tea, hoping that the caffeine would make something out of the mush her brain had become.

Hermione was so concentrated on her own misery that she completely forgot that her two friends were sitting next to her. Ron was shoveling eggs into his mouth at breakneck speed, as per usual, oblivious to his friend's sudden loss of appetite. Harry however, was not.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" He was studying her with a particularly keen look. "You look like you just got news that someone died."

Ron paused in his eating, his fork halfway into his mouth, which was hanging open and showing the world half-chewed pieces of scrambled egg.

Hermione shook her head. "It's nothing like that. I'll tell you later… in private." She looked around nervously, suddenly feeling as if the entire table was listening in on her conversation.

This, however, turned out to be a mistake. As she glanced around her, she noticed a flash of light in the background. Unsurprisingly enough, it was the glare the sun made off of Malfoy's hair. Hermione thought contemptuously that there was no way that hair was natural. If she thought it was at all possible that Malfoy would use anything to do with Muggles, she'd swear that he dyed it.

Malfoy had apparently been watching her for some time, probably since she'd walked in, if his past stalker tendencies were anything to go by. When he saw that he had her attention he raised his eyebrows, in what she supposed was meant to be seductive, and made a kissing face in her direction. Hermione looked away disgusted. She felt glad, for the first time, even if just a little bit, that she had chosen Snape.

The man in question chose that moment to barge into the Great Hall, his robes billowing out of the small door behind the staff table. Hermione watched him as he sat grumpily down in a huff. She tried not to smirk at the thought that Dumbledore must've given him a real lecture. Either that or he was just in his usual dour mood.

She took a moment to study him. She figured there must be something at least mildly attractive about Snape. Only there wasn't anything attractive about Snape, mildly or otherwise. His nose was too large, his hair long, lanky, and greasy, his eyes were like deep pools of nothingness, implying that he had no heart whatsoever, which wasn't that much of a stretch for the imagination. He must wear at least three layers of clothing, and Hermione had the sinking feeling that, though he was tall, he was probably scrawny as anything under all those layers. She didn't even want to go there. Add to that his perpetually gloomy countenance and you had one unpleasant man. There was no way she was going to enjoy this.

He seemed to notice her staring, because he looked up and raised his brows sardonically at her. She blushed at her impertinence and looked down at her uneaten breakfast. She made an effort to eat her piece of toast, figuring she'd need it to keep her brainpower up in classes, but it felt like rubber on her tongue. Just because Snape was ruining every other aspect of her life didn't mean her studies had to go down the drain as well.

Severus stared down the Great Hall at her. She was sitting quietly in her place, barely eating her toast, while her bothersome friends chatted away next to her. Perhaps she was finally getting some real smarts and was going to drop them. He sure as hell didn't want them traipsing through his chambers, putting nifflers in his underdrawers. One annoying Gryffindor was bad enough.

He looked over at her and grimaced at the thought of marrying her. Her hair was ridiculously poofy and flew around everywhere, reminding him of Medusa. He briefly wondered if she had ever been called that. It would make sense; Medusa and Hermione were both Greek. She probably cried over it, though he couldn't understand why anyone would. He spent seven years being called Snivellus without shedding a tear.

All around, Granger was a Plain Jane, another ironic analogy to go with the girl, considering her middle name. Her eyes were brown, not hazel, her face was not beautiful, though he supposed if she was to wear makeup she could be considered pretty, and she was too short. He hated short women. It made everything so much harder. Most of all, she was his student. Now everyone would think he was some kind of pedophile. He'd never looked at a student in any kind of attraction since the day he graduated himself. On the plus side, however, she was thin, but not skinny, and looked like she ate (though at the moment he was beginning to doubt that, as she continued to absentmindedly dissect her toast). She had full lips, but they weren't overly plump. She had average breasts, though he personally preferred larger, and her hips were wide enough to say that she would breed well.

Breed? He, Severus Snape, would not be doing anything with this chit of a girl that would lead to any kind of breeding. The children would be awful. They would have his large nose, her unruly hair, his surly composure, and her know-it-all tendencies. Besides what the wizarding world would have to say about it. No, he had absolutely no plans to do anything of the sort with her. He'd spend the next hundred years of his life celibate, but he wasn't going to touch that girl. The last thing he needed was the whole of Hogwarts to think him a letch, on top of everything else that was said about him.

In any case, even the scant slight attractive parts of her body were overshadowed by her abhorrent personality. Severus had been looking forward to the day when she and her two troublemaking friends would leave Hogwarts and be out of his life forever. Now, he was marrying one of them, and the other two were sure to follow her around. He hoped she was on better terms with Potter than Weasley. Potter was bad enough, acting just like his father, but at least he was good at Defense Against the Dark Arts (though he bragged incessantly about it), whereas Weasley had no skills to speak of. Perhaps if he told his fiancée that the two weren't allowed in his home he'd never have to deal with them.

And then there was his fiancée. He still hadn't gotten used to referring to her in that manner. It seemed a title too personal and doting for the gruesome situation they were actually in. The girl was annoying, for sure. She had a tendency to constantly be either frantically raising her hand, doing three feet more homework than required, or spouting off passages from the textbooks she was reading. Somewhere along the way she had seemed to have formed the idea that this made her appear smart. In Severus's mind it made her even stupider than her two nincompoop friends. The only things she knew about were things in books, written by other people. She lapped up whatever was written, with no thought for analysis. She knew nothing of the real world, had no common sense. How she had survived the war he couldn't understand. His life would be much simpler if she hadn't.

At this thought, the Headmaster walked in, to Severus's consternation and Hermione's amusement at his reaction. Severus took this time to slip quietly from the Hall to his dungeons. At least he could spend the day tormenting second year Ravenclaws. There were some joys in life, he decided.

"Well?" Harry demanded.

Hermione heaved a sigh. They were in her rooms during the break between classes and lunch. She had called them up to explain the situation, but now that the time had come, she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She sighed again, then launched into the narration of what had occurred in the Headmaster's office.

She told them everything, up to the point of when Dumbledore had given her Snape's proposal, while the boys looked at her with alternating shocked and sympathetic looks.

"Snape!? He wants you to marry Snape!? What is he thinking!?" Ron burst out when she had finished.

"It's Professor Snape, Ron."

"Don't worry, 'Mione!" Hermione cringed. She hated when people called her that, though she supposed it was better than Medusa, which is what the children in her grade school had called her. She was always disappointed that she was the only one who saw the Greek mythological connection there. "I'll put in a contract for you! Forget Snape and marry me!"

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Ron, you can't. You're not of age."

"So? I'll talk to Dad, see if he can pull some strings. Or there's always Fred or George-"

"Ron. No," Hermione said firmly, interrupting his rant before he got going. "It's too late for that anyway."

"What do you mean? What are you talking about 'too late?'" Ron had a panicked look on his face.

"I've already signed the contract."

"What!?" Ron exclaimed, making Hermione flinch at the volume of his yelp.

Harry gave her a long, perceptive look. "Please tell me you chose Snape."

Hermione nearly broke down and hugged him. She had been so afraid that she would have to explain her reasoning to both of them. Well, she still had to explain to Ron, and he was the more hardheaded of the two, but at least Harry would be able to help her.

Ron shot Harry a confused look. "Hermione?" he said, turning back to her, his voice coming out in a squeak.

Hermione glanced at him, then turned to look at Harry, who was giving her an imploring look. "Yes," she said heavily, "I chose Snape."

"Good," Harry said, nodding.

"GOOD!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'GOOD'!?" Ron burst out, predictably and loudly. "SNAPE!? WHY WOULD YOU CHOOSE SNAPE!?"

"Well, who else would I have picked? Malfoy? He's a Death Eater!" Hermione said, trying to keep her voice calm and steady in the face of a very red Weasley.

"SO IS SNAPE!"

"Ron, mate-" Harry tried to interject.

"Don't 'Ron, mate' me!" Ron yelled, not even turning to look at Harry. "Why didn't you tell us you fancied Snape!"

Now it was Hermione's turn to look incredulous. Harry was gaping at Ron. "I do not have a thing for Snape! Why would you even think that? It was a choice between three evils and I chose the lesser!"

"You can hardly expect me to believe that. You must have something going for Snape; why else would you agree so readily to marry him?"

"There wasn't another choice! I would have chosen the same person had I had a week to decide. There wasn't anyone else!"

"There was me!"

"Ron, I told you you're not of age-"

"How could you pick Snape over ME!?"

So that was what this was all about. Ron, as she suspected, liked her, probably more than liked her, if the fact that he wanted to marry her so badly was anything to go on. She was now extremely glad she had picked Snape while she could. At least Snape wasn't in love with her. Ron was a good friend, but Hermione was not romantically attracted to him in the least. A relationship with Snape would be relatively guilt-free, being that she was fairly certain he disliked her every bit as much as she disliked him.

"Ron…" Harry started, but Ron was already completely red and fuming, past the point of being reasoned with.

"I can't believe you two! You've probably been planning this behind my back this whole time! How could you, Hermione? I thought we were friends!" Hermione found it annoying that Ron didn't just come out and say that he was upset because he had a crush on her, since everyone in the room seemed to realize it. "Forget this! Forget you!" and he stormed out.

There was a beat of silence, during which Hermione and Harry stared at the door. Hermione was struggling not to cry. She had expected Ron to take it badly (I mean, who wanted to picture their best friend married to the git of the school?), but she hadn't expected him to completely write them off like that. She wished he hadn't run off. She needed her friends now more than ever.

Harry sighed softly and turned to look at her, saw the unshed tears in her eyes, and went over to hug her. "He'll calm down. It's just a bit of a shock for him. For me, too."

"You didn't yell at me and then run out of the room. I don't even understand why he's so upset. I get that he likes me, I've rather suspected it for a while, but I still think he overreacted."

"Well, he did tell me he had been planning on contracting you once he came of age. He seemed rather dead set on it. I don't think he wants to give up on that idea quite yet. You know Ron – he couldn't admit to himself that there's no way he'd be able to get things stretched so that he could contract you now, even though he's not eighteen. Not yet, anyway."

"He wouldn't be able to do something like that unless his Dad were someone like Lucius Malfoy. Besides, I wouldn't have accepted him even if Mr. Weasley had managed to pull it off."

"I know that, but you can understand that Ron wouldn't want to let himself see it."

"That still doesn't explain why he was such a git about it."

"Well - and remember he thinks it was still possible for him to marry you - I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that, in his mind, you not only didn't choose him, but you chose Snape, the bane of our existence, over him."

"Well it wasn't much of a choice. And even Professor Snape is preferable to a couple of actual Death Eaters."

"I know, but you can't expect him to put behind old grudges so quickly. I saw what Snape had to do during the war, I worked with him on Occlumency and how to subvert Voldemort. I know he's dependable, and has honor, even if I also think his the biggest git in the wizarding world, next to Voldemort."

Hermione smiled at his last sentence, knowing it was too much to hope that Harry would let a chance to have one more dig against Professor Snape pass by.

"Don't worry about Ron, Hermione. He'll come to his senses."

Hermione looked at him. "I'm not sure I want him to, if he's going to act like that. Did you know he liked me? Not just wanting to contract me for convenience, but actually liked me?"

"He told me he did back in the beginning sixth year, but after he went out with that fifth year Hufflepuff I figured he was over it."

"I guess not," Hermione sniffed.

"Come on, forget Ron. If he doesn't see reason, well, we're better off without him. Besides, you still have me. And I can faithfully tell you that I am not harboring any romantic thoughts of you whatsoever. Now, let's get to lunch before we're late."

Hermione gave him a watery smile as he led her out the door. They walked in silence down the corridors for a while, when Harry suddenly spoke.

"Hermione?" he asked softly.

"Yes?"

"It was the right thing to do. Picking Snape, I mean."

"Thank you."

AN: So, if you couldn't tell, I strongly dislike Ron. So he's going to be pretty dumb in this. I might eventually reunite them as friends, but don't hold your breath.

Up Next: Remus tries to comfort Hermione about her impending marriage.