AN/ I thought I would give this a whirl while waiting patiently for my chapters from my story 'Damaged Goods' to return from my gifted beta whose real life is a bit hectic right now. Rest assured the story is still in full steam as well as 'If there be thorns' for those who are waiting for the 'Midsummer's Journey' sequel. I just needed a break from angst and darkness. This is for fun.

WIKTT challenge: The Triangle. The recent discussion of how things would be after the release of OotP and the concern over the implications of a married Snape' on the HG/SS 'ship' had made me to think up this challenge, which might become all too real. With the hope it'll stay hypothetical ... The only absolute requirement in this challenge is: The story HAS to start where Snape IS married -- to someone other than Hermione. The story HAS to end where Snape and Hermione are together. Whom is Snape married to? Up to you. The nature of the marriage? (Love marriage, arranged marriage, convenience marriage . ) Also up to you. How does the marriage dissolves? (She dies, he leaves her, she leaves him . ) Also up to you. The role Hermione plays in the breakup? (A bystander who takes her chance, an active home wrecker, someone Snape goes to for consolation, his lover while he's still married . ) Also up to you. BUT . I want full details of all the points above. Yes. Include all the stuff that makes gossips like myself live for. Feel free to make it as scandalous as you wish! What is NOT allowed: a big time or emotional gap between the breaking of Snape's marriage and his getting together with Hermione. The events HAVE to be connected. The deadline -- June 20th 2003. One day before OotP (yea like who will read fanfiction for the next two months after anyways lol)

The Triangle

"Who is that woman sitting by Snape?" Harry asked. "Did we get a new professor over the holiday?"

The students had just returned that day from their Christmas break and Harry, Hermione and Ron were sitting in their usual spots at the Gryffindor table eating dinner. It had been the first Christmas they had spent away from school since their third year. They had wanted to stay since it was their last year, however it had been decided that all students return home that Christmas.

"Oh her," Ron said his mouth full of mashed potato, "that's Snape's wife."

"WHAT!?" Hermione and Harry asked together looking at Ron.

"Didn't you see it in the Daily Prophet? They got married on Christmas Eve. I wouldn't have paid any attention either except mum made such a big fuss over it. You know how she is. Positively giddy about it she was. Said it was about time the man had someone in his life." Ron rolled his eyes remembering the knitted tea cozies she had made to send to them as a wedding present.

"Amazing," Harry muttered, looking up at the head table at the woman once more. She was a striking woman, with long blonde hair that framed an aristocratic face. "Who would ever think that greasy git could get someone like that?"

"Harry, really," Hermione chided. "I thought you would have grown up a bit by now. Looks aren't everything."

"Yea," Ron said grinning. "It must have been his charming personality that attracted her."

Hermione shook her head at the boys.

"Well look at this way," Ron said eyeing Hermione, "maybe he won't be so nasty now that he is getting shagged on a regular basis."

Hermione punched him hard. "Is that all you guys think about?"

"Let's see, we are seventeen, healthy, no cares in the world since Voldemort's downfall, so the answer is yes!" Harry said laughing, especially after spending the summer with Sirius he thought.

Voldemort had fallen at the end of their sixth year term when he had attacked Hogwarts. He had been convinced that if he could kill Harry then nothing could stand in his way. It had been a swift battle thanks to members of the Phoenix Order who had learned of the attack due to Professor Snape who was spying for them. Fortunately they hadn't lost any students and only one staff member, though many had been injured, Professor Snape and Dumbledore critically.

After it was over, Sirius had been cleared of all charges and had been offered a job at the Ministry as an Auror for his part in the downfall of the Dark Order.

Sirius had promptly bought a house in London and Harry had spent a wonderful summer with his godfather. It had been an experience he would never forget. Sirius had been like a hormonal 18 year old. Harry couldn't really blame him. After all, he had spent the best years of his life locked away in Azkaban.

Harry blushed as he remembered the parade of women that had come through the small house. And this Christmas! Sirius had gotten Harry a very unusual gift, claiming it was time he was a 'man'.

"Earth to Harry," Ron called chuckling, for he knew all about Harry's 'gift'.

"Really," Hermione said disdainfully.

The boys laughed at her red face.


Lying in her bed in the Headgirl's small room, her books scattered around her, Hermione tried to concentrate on the complicated chemistry formula in front of her. Receiving the highest NEWTS in the last twenty decades, she had been given the rare opportunity to design her curriculum for herself this year. She had decided on a regiment that would allow her to become a mediwitch, but not just any mediwitch.

The thought had came to her during the summer, after she had spent several weeks working with Madam Pomfrey caring for those who were injured during the battle at Hogwarts. She had found that every time she suggested something to try on the more critical patients, she was put in her place by Pomfrey and the mediwizards from St Mungo's who had come to assist. Evidently the Wizarding world of medicine did not believe in advancement and stayed with old remedies.

Hermione had done a lot of research the first part of the summer, studying chemistry and medical books she had gotten from the university library and the idea had coursed through her veins. Mixing Muggle technology and magic. It could be the best of both worlds. She had outlined her proposal and sent it to Professor McGonagall. Three days later she had received a post not from McGonagall but from Dumbledore

Dear Miss Granger,

Professor McGonagall brought me your proposal for your last year curriculum. I must tell you young lady that I am very impressed. I for one realize that advancement in the medical area of our realm is sorely lacking, attesting from first hand experience.

As I examine the classes you have outlined for your designed areas of study needed to accomplish this, I regret to inform you that Advanced Potions will not be offered this year as no student signed up for it. Professor Snape is on sabbatical at the moment, however he will still be teaching potions and I have forwarded your proposal on to him.

Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey have all agreed to take you on as an apprentice in the areas you laid out. I realize that without the Potions class you may wish to amend your project, that is why I wrote to you personally.

Best wishes Professor A. Dumbledore, Headmaster.

Tears in her eyes, Hermione had thought she would have to scrap the whole idea. Moping around the house, she tried outlining another area she was interested in. By the end of the month she had given up and decided just to take classes with the rest of her friends when a large black raven flew in through the open window of her bedroom.

With her heart in her throat she had untied the letter and read,

Miss Granger,

Professor Dumbledore has informed me of the project you wish to work on during your seventh year. As you know there will not be a seventh year Advance Potions this term, however I have read your proposal very carefully and am intrigued.

I will expect you every Thursday evening after dinner to assist you in the potions area of your project.

Professor S. Snape

That was it. She hugged the short note to her chest elated.


Sighing, Hermione stacked her books carefully on the nightstand. Her mind was too full of 'him' to concentrate. Blowing out the candle she laid back on her pillow. "Well that's that," she said to the empty room. "I guess I don't have to worry about having a silly crush on the man any more."

She turned over and punched the pillow angrily. Enough Granger, it was just one of those stupid things and you should have never even given much thought to.

Damn, but she had given Severus Snape too much thought these past months. Not that she had noticed him before, had come to respect his intelligence and bravery, but ever since this term had started she had noted the man.

Working closely with him one on one on Thursday evenings that had quickly changed into Tuesday evenings also, had given her a closer look at her surly potions professor. Since recovering from the battle, he had seemed more relaxed, the lines on his face lesser. He had even altered his appearance just a bit. Hermione doubted that anyone noticed that his hair no longer was greasy, his scowl not always present. Maybe since he no longer had to concern himself with Voldemort he could take time with little things.

Those afternoons in his chambers revealed to her the man behind the snarky potions professor. His eyes, smoky and bright revealed the passion for learning that she herself knew. When he looked at her, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have him look at her with that same kind of passion.

The intense sessions had soon spilled over to Saturday afternoons. These were the best Hermione thought. On Saturdays they went to his private quarters to pour over the Muggle books of chemistry and medicine. It was there that for the first time she had seen him without his professor's habit and her heart had skipped a beat.

She had lost her breath at the sight of him. Dressed in a fine linen white shirt and causal black trousers, his hair pulled back from his face tied at the nape of his neck, she thought she had the wrong door. He had arched one of his dark eyebrows at her as she stared at him before flushing and hurried into the room.

Who had stolen the greasy haired evil professor and replaced him with a sexy, dark man? she thought, still marveling at the difference in his looks. It had taken a lot of concentration not to stare at him during their time and when she had left that evening she found that her knees where weak.

He had been animated about the research they were doing. Often they worked long into the evening having dinner there. It had happened innocently enough. Being in his private chambers, they both had been more relaxed, more like colleagues. A slip of the tongue one evening had him addressing her as 'Hermione'. It had sounded like honeyed mead coming from his lips and she had told him that she preferred to be addressed by her given name when he had tried to apologize.

Giving her a smile, he had told her that she also could address him as Severus but only on Saturdays. Her heart had melted as she spoke his name for the first time.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she mumbled into her pillow, berating herself for her schoolgirl fantasies as tears rolled slowly down her cheeks.


"Are you coming to bed soon Sev?" a rich sultry voice called from the bedroom.

"In a moment," he said curtly. He wondered how many newlyweds were exasperated beyond reason after one week of marriage. Not that it didn't have its perks, he thought, smiling as Rowena appeared in the doorway dressed in a silky red nightgown that clung to her tall-sculpted body.

He had been pleasantly surprised their first night together. The woman definitely had talent, talent that had been honed to perfection when it came to pleasuring a man. Severus knew that many men would have found this disquietening that their new wife was skilled in such a manner, however he found it interesting and had no complaints, though he had been tempted to inquire where she had learned such an art. In a way it gave him an excuse. He had been afraid he would to profess love for her, comfort and caress her in the bedroom. It would have been foreign to him as his only intimate relationships had been meaningless, sought for only base physical release.

This marriage seemed only an extension of this. His mother had arranged it this past summer. Severus had listened patiently for years as his mother had begged for him to wed, to produce grandchildren. It had been impossibility with his complicated life before Voldemort's demise.

He had returned to his home to recuperate from his injuries. It had been comforting to have his mother fuss over him and in a moment of weakness he had agreed to her pleadings. "Find me a wife," he had told her exasperatedly one evening. Her beaming face had almost been worth it as she kissed her son and began her matchmaking.

As with most pureblood wizarding families who adhere to the old ways, an arranged marriage through the parents was not unusual. Severus had feared that his mother would present him with a young girl that he would not only have to pretend to love but rear also. It had been a relief when she had presented one Rowena Treymaine to him. At 32, tall and lithe, she carried herself with a regal air. Long blonde hair fell to her hips and grey green eyes promised intelligence.

It did not take Severus long to uncover the reason the woman was still unwed, once he had searched into the background of the family. Apparently her family had once came from money until her father had squandered them into poverty. When Severus had met her father, he knew that he had sold his daughter to the highest bidder, though she was an adult. Severus had smiled wickedly as he shook the man's hand. The man would never see any money from this union and that had been the start of the arguments.

"I cannot believe that you do not trust your own wife to have access to your Gringotts' account," Rowena had pouted when she had asked him about it two days after their wedding. Giving her a sardonic smile, Severus had assured her that she would have enough money to please her desires. The woman loved to shop and he did not mind indulging her in her whims for material things, however he did not plan to keep up her no account father.

Severus rose from his seat following his wife into the bedroom. Flinching at the sight of his bedchambers, the damn woman had redone the once dark greens with lilac; he soon forgot the room as she once again showed him how skilled she was.