The Herald

1

Professor Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rumoured to take a wife by the new year.

Most eligible bachelor of Wizarding Britain, no more!

Former spy for Albus Dumbledore, and rogue Deatheater is said to be marrying into the renowned Black family.

A distant relation of the notorious Sirius Black and deranged cousin Bellatrix Lestrange?

The Headmaster had no comments to make at this time, as he ushered his intended into his office, slamming the door right on our noses. No word yet on how this has left former fling Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin First Class, war hero, and newest employee of Hogwarts.

Will tensions rise due to this development?

Looking back at photographs taken from the last celebratory ball in September, the Headmaster and his newest hire seemed exceptionally smitten with one another. Has this most recent news made its way to her yet?

More soon, dear readers.

She slammed the dreaded Prophet onto the kitchen table with more might than she'd possibly intended. Wincing at the sound and slight pain, she rubbed her palm, glaring at the newspaper.

No, she had most certainly not been aware of Snape's latest conquest.

Not that it was any of her business.

Yes, they had attended several events together, always in matching outfits. She'd stood by him unrelenting during his trial, as well. One of the few who believed in him.

Of course, after that last ball, he had become quite distant. Well, more distant than one could expect Severus Snape to be.

It was odd. He had been ever so willing to be in her presence. Opened up to her about his passions, his interests, they had gone for supper quite a number of times, drinks before his fireplace. A touch here, a fevered glance there.

Had she imagined it?

Chalked it up to more than it was?

Looking back at the picture in the paper, she had most certainly not imagined the fiery look in his eyes as he gazed down on her. His arm tight around her waist.

Then what the bloody hell had happened?

He had so desperately wanted her to take the teaching position. Even offering to make her Deputy if she wanted it. Head of Gryffindor. Anything.

The curse Tom Riddle had placed on the Defence Against the Dark Arts post had died with him, fizzled out to nothing more than a joke amongst previous tenants of the position.

She was free to grab the spot and keep it. She had, of course, graciously accepted. Gregarious in her anticipations of working by his side.

Had it all been a ploy?

A ruse to get her to take the job?

Nonsense, surely.

Though he was Slytherin. And offensively proud of the fact. He had managed to play the two most megalomaniacal wizards in modern history like fiddles. Surely, an ever so willing and naïve witch was child's play in comparison.

And she had, hadn't she? Been ever so willing.

She'd been up to her gills in Ministry paperwork, frustrated and tired of it all after only 8 months shy of 2 years. Then, as if by miracle, -and yes, it was rather suspicious now that she thought on it- Severus bloody Snape of all people waltzed into her life like an absolute dream.

And offered her a job at Hogwarts.

And oh, how she had hemmed and hawed and played coy at the prospect of going home.

In all honesty, she'd made up her mind the moment the words left his mouth.

But she'd wanted to see how far he'd go, hadn't she? How much he would risk to get her there. What he'd give up.

And now she knew.

He'd played her. Just as he did everyone else in his life.

She scanned the images of the woman being ushered into the great round office belonging to the Headmaster. Her face shielded from the cameras, Snape's hand low on her spine before slamming the doors shut.

The flare in her chest was not jealousy, Hermione told herself.

He was perfectly allowed to touch whomever he wished in whatever manner they'd deemed appropriate. And clearly, this woman didn't at all mind having his hand so low on her person.

What woman would? That was the real question. He was Headmaster Severus Snape, renowned Potions' Master, reformed Deatheater, decorated war hero, Dumbledore's right-hand, protector of Harry bleeding Potter. And inheritor of the Prince fortune to boot!

To be quite honest, she was surprised he hadn't settled already.

Merlin knew he had utter swathes of witches and wizards and wix trailing after him. Devotees, groupies, fanatics.

But he hadn't wanted any of it.

It seemed for the longest time, he had kept his devotion to Lily Potter. Until he began courting Hermione.

And yes, he had courted her.

For months.

And then poof! just like that, he'd disappeared. Never returned her owls, never acknowledged her presence.

She had signed the contract for her position at Hogwarts to begin the following September, he'd rolled the parchment, and with a flourish of his fingers it had gone. Never to be seen again.

She had been sitting comfortably in his office, they had had tea.

And then she hadn't again heard from him.

And now this!

This absolute vile announcement via 'Me, Myself & I'.

Hardly his idea, she was sure. The entire article reeked of witch seeking to stake her claim. A public display that she had been the one to sink her claws into the almighty academic and tether him to her.

But this was Severus Snape. And if Hermione knew him at all, he'd be absolutely disgusted by the actions of his fiancée.

One did not call the media on said Potions' Master. Oh no.

The brightest witch of her age smirked at that revelation. If he truly did follow through with this farce of a marriage, it would surely ruin him.

And he would rue the day he married the wrong witch.

She planned to make him fully aware that she would have made a far more suitable wife.

Hogwarts would be fun.