Foolish Hearts

Twelve

Snape's Pov...

I kissed Hermione's temple to wake her the next morning. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she never looked more lovely to me. Weasley had some nerve to use one of my own curses on his own wife! I suspected that she had the symptoms of being inflicted as such, but I had no idea that he would use a torture curse on Hermione to exert his authority over her.

She rolled over to look up at me, and smiled. "Is this the part where the Prince kisses his Princess to wake her from her slumber?"

I chuckled, and ran my fingers through her hair softly. "If you wish," I said. "But I see no point since she is already awake."

She socked me playfully in the arm, laughing. "Pity. I was hoping that the nighttime snuggle session wasn't a dream. Your presence soothes me."

"As yours does mine," I blurted out. "But we have a trial to attend, and we cannot be late."

Hermione stood, and realized that she had slept in her clothes. Well, it wouldn't be the first time for me. Hermione padded to her closet, and picked out another designer suit, this time one with pants.

She saw my faint look of disappointment at the lack of a skirt, and laughed, "Now I know why you keep me around. You just want to see my legs."

I took her hands in mine, and kissed them. "I would be lying if that wasn't a welcome aspect of you being here."

She began to rummage in the closet, and came out with another pair of heels. "Oh? And what is the other?"

The fact that I may well love you, more than I have loved any woman I have ever met,"I think you know what that other is," I replied sincerely.

Again, that weird tension, and tidal pull towards each other fell between us. Hermione finally nodded, understanding, blushing. "You're right, forget I said anything," She finally said.

I nodded, accepting her answer. We would eventually have to talk about us, but until this trial was over, I understood that Hermione had no time to think about what may or may not be happening between us. I was patient, I had waited years for her, what was a few days or weeks compared to that?

We both got ready separately by unspoken consent, and as always, Hermione looked beautiful, and not like the ragged misfit I first met her as. We had coffee and breakfast, and when we disapparated together we somehow, ended up kissing.

We ended up on a busy London sidewalk, where Draco met us. He cleared his throat, and chuckled, "Okay, lovebirds. Save the PDA for behind closed doors, alright?"

I looked at Hermione and we laughed. I held her hand as a sleek black limousine pulled up to the curb, and we were driven to the Ministry of Magic. The wizarding paparazzi met us at the doors and began flashing us with cameras and shouting questions at us. We remained silent, but I couldn't resist holding Hermione's hand, and walking beside her, matching my longer strides to her shorter ones.

I no longer gave a damn what the Daily Prophet wrote about us, I decided then and there. Draco's parents met us, as well as my friends, and I talked briefly with all of them, but I didn't really feel like talking, I was focused on this trial, and nothing else.

Lucius testified first, and then Narcissa gave her testimony. Then Draco was called up, and he was sworn in. "I have known Mrs. Weasley since school, but no, we were not friends due to the blood prejudice I was raised with from a young age. The end of the war gained me friends I wouldn't trade for the world. I am here as Mrs. Weasley's doctor."

"When were you called to Spinners End?"

"On the first week, after my godfather couldn't revive Mrs. Weasley with potions, and traditional wizarding methods of healing," Draco answered. "I wanted to admit her to St. Mungos, but I was overruled. I looked extensively over Mrs. Weasley's injuries," And then Draco launched into a very thorough and clinical recitation of Hermione's evidence of extreme abuse at Ron Weasley's hands.

Many of the witches in the Wizengamot were visibly shaken, and even the wizards were shaken. Good, let the bastards be shocked, it was about damn time they took domestic violence seriously.

The Minster of Magic finally hit the gavel on his pulpit, and said in a slightly shaky voice, "The Wizengamot and I will deliberate over lunch. We have seen and heard much evidence for and against these divorce proceedings. We will meet back here in an hour, and give our decision then. Until then, this court is adjourned."

We filed out of the courtroom, and had lunch at a Panera Bread Ginny Potter wanted to go to. "How are you holding up, Mione'?" She asked her friend.

Hermione sighed, and glared at Draco, "I'm better. But I didn't think you would get so graphic, Draco. You really turned a lot of people's stomachs."

Draco sipped his smoothie. "If I just glossed over the facts, none of the Wizengamot would have taken us seriously. I promise that I will ask you next time, Hermione. But I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think we weren't already getting results in our favor. You can thank me when you're tossing your bouquet next time you get married."

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair at the not so subtle reminder. I kicked him under the chair. "Yes, I'm sure you helped immensely," I added, narrowing my eyes at my godson.

We finished our lunch, and piled in the limousine on our return trip. When it was time for the trial to begin, the Wizengamot filed back to their seats, and Kingsley Shacklebolt stood up at his pulpit.

"Hermione Granger--Weasley," He said, formally. "Please stand."

Hermione did, and took a deep, calming breath. "I am shaken to my core that a warheroine of this last wizarding war, had to endure such extreme abuse at her husband's own hands. It is the judgment of the Wizengamot, that you are not only divorced from your husband Ronald Weasley, but are annulled from him as well, meaning that legally, the marriage never occurred in the first place, based on such extreme mistreatment on his part to your body and person. You may surrender your rings now to symbolize this union being no union."

Hermione took off her cheap bridal set gladly, and gave them to the bailiff in charge. Kingsley then put them onto a plate, and destroyed them with his own wand. I felt nothing but pride and a strange sense of responsibility rest itself on my shoulders as we walked out of the courtroom that day.

We had to talk about us, I realized. Now, that Hermione was free, I knew that we had to talk about our future, and what this favorable verdict meant for us. I might have been a bit peeved with my nephew about his mention of marriage, but he had a point, people would expect me to make an honest witch of Hermione, even though we have never been intimate, save for a kiss. I just wished that we could find the time to discuss it all without making a complete fool of myself in the end...