Severus T Snape, Jr

by guiltypleasure572

Hermione Granger struggles to raise her son in a world that frowns on unwed mothers. In her struggle to protect her son and find a way to obtain society's respect he deserves as the son of two honored war heroes, she may find more than she bargained for. *Characters belong to the brilliant J.K Rowling

Severus T. Snape, Jr.

….

August 2009: London, UK

"Mum, was I an accident?"

Hermione stopped tucking the young boy in, unable to hide the alarmed expression on her face. The dark haired lad buried a little deeper into his covers, slightly worried his question had angered his mother.

"Where did you hear such a thing?" she asked, softening her features.

"I overheard Aunt Lavender in the kitchen. She was saying something about how if I had never been born, she and Uncle Ron may never have gotten back together. She said she should thank you, she guessed, for being the loose woman no one ever guessed you were."

There were many reasons why Hermione never liked her friend's wife and her tendency to run her mouth was certainly one of them.

"Who was she talking to?"

"Autie Fleur, I think. I went to get a drink of water for Victoire."

"Did Fleur say anything?"

The boy shook his head. "Teddy came up asking what was taking me so long and they changed the subject."

Tonight had been a large family gathering at the Burrow to celebrate Teddy going away to his first year at Hogwarts. The whole Weasley clan was there, including Harry and Ginny Potter with their two little boys, James and Albus. As a member of the Golden Trio and adopted member of the Weasley family, Hermione had of course been invited. Her son Toby would be starting at Hogwarts next year with Bill and Fleur's oldest, Victoire. Together, the three of them had formed a sort of second generation Golden Trio; they were inseparable and although Toby and Victoria were excited for Teddy, they were also going to miss him a lot.

Everyone had been very accepting of Hermione's illegitimate son, Severus Tobias Snape, Jr. Mrs. Weasley had been crushed at first that she and Ron broke up, but quickly became the much supportive mother-by-proxy that Hermione needed. After Harry explained Severus Snape Sr's memories and the Death Eater Spy was exonerated as a war hero, everyone else followed suit, loving both Hermione and her son. Everyone except Ron and Lavender. They seemed intent on bringing up the seedy nature of it all at every possible opportunity.

The witch let out a frustrated sigh. One would think after all these years, her friends would be used to her son and not continue to gossip about him behind her back.

"I don't understand what Aunt Lav was saying about you being a loose woman? What does that mean?"

Hermione looked into her son's deep black eyes and combed her fingers through his dark hair. He so had the look of his father: dark hair, dark eyes, thin lips. But he had his mother's nose and her big teeth, poor child.

Since the day he was born, she had been dreading having this conversation with him. Young Toby knew of course that he was the only son of two war heroes; his father, Severus Snape, having died at the hand of Lord Voldemort during the final battle and his mother, Hermione Granger, who had fought against Voldemort and his Death Eaters alongside his Uncle Harry, the Chosen One. But Hermione had never told her son about the circumstances that brought about his conception and the end of her relationship with Ronald Weasley.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she took one of Toby's small hands in her own.

"You were nor ever have been an accident, Toby. Your father and I never planned on conceiving you but that doesn't mean you are an accident. You are our precious miracle, do you understand?"

Toby nodded. "But what does my birth have to do with Uncle Ron?"

"Before your dad and I got together, your uncle Ron and I fancied each other. We had been friends, along with uncle Harry, since our first year at Hogwarts. We thought we were going to go on and get married after the war. But in the aftermath, I realized that he and I were better off friends than as a couple. Then I found out I was pregnant with you and Ron thought I had betrayed him. He never forgave me and eventually got back together with his ex-girlfriend from our sixth year."

"Aunt Lavender."

Hermione nodded.

"But what did she mean about you being a loose woman? By her tone, it didn't sound very complimentary of you. I didn't like it."

"It's not complimentary, dear. In fact it is very insulting and I have spoken to her more than once about saying such things. A loose woman is someone who becomes involved romantically with many different men without being in a committed relationship with them. Do you understand? It's very immoral and not looked well on in society."

His brow scrunched in concentration and then anger as he comprehended his mother's explanation.

"Why would she say such things about you mum?" he asked, distressed.

There were a lot of unsavory reasons why Hermione was sure Lavender spoke such vindictive things about her and it took every measure of self-discipline to rise above and not speak badly of her friend's wife.

"I think it's because your uncle Ron still feels like I betrayed him by being with your father. He was deeply hurt by our break-up. He seemed adamant at the time that we would have stayed together had you not come along. But he is wrong, sweetheart," she said, pulling her son into a reassuring hug.

Like his father before him, Toby Snape was a very sensitive young man. He wanted to be loved and accepted. It was already hard enough that he and his mother didn't have the last name—people made him feel jaded—he didn't need the same treatment from those he considered family, too. Toby loved his mother. He didn't like people saying mean things about him or her. It wasn't right; his mother was a very good and loving and respectable witch.

"You never did tell me how you and dad got together; just that he saved your life. Will you tell me mum?"

Smiling gently, Hermione moved to sit at the head of Toby's twin bead, her back against the headboard, as he snuggled into her side.

"You will remember Uncle Harry telling you about the year we spent together on the run, hunting Tom Riddle's horcruxes?"

Toby nodded.

"Well, we had just barely managed to escape the Death Eater's that came to Mr. Lovegood's house. We apparated to a forest we had hidden in some weeks prior and right into a pack of Snatcher's"—Toby tensed—"They chased us through the woods, throwing curse after curse at us while we tried to outrun them. Your Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry were faster than me. They reached a clearing and began sending curses passed me to slow up some of the Snatcher's so I could catch up and apparate with them. Ron had just barely grasped my hand when one of the Snatcher's Summoned me. I was pulled away from my friends just as they apparated away….."

"What happened next?"

April 1998, Malfoy Manor:

Pain. So much pain Hermione was sure it could not even be classified as pain anymore. Agony—the sadistic pleasures of a madwoman as she was cursed over and over again. Her throat was raw from screaming and she was pretty sure that she had involuntarily lost control of her bladder. The humiliation was almost as unbearable as the torture curse that wracked her body. To add insult to injury, Bellatrix had carved Mudblood into her left forearm, forever branding her as inferior.

"WHERE IS POTTER?!"

"I don't know," Hermione managed to cry during a momentary break in the cursing.

"LIAR!"

And the pain resumed. It seemed to be endless. She was having a hard time remaining conscious now, almost wishing they would just kill her and put her out of her misery.

Suddenly there was relief. Bellatrix was yelling something about the sword of Gryffindor currently being held in one of the Snatcher's hands.

"We found it in her bag when we searched her. Reckin' it's mine now," he said.

In an instant she had cursed the Snatcher's out of the room and turned on Hermione with an even more maniacal look in her eyes.

"That sword is supposed to be in my vault, Mudblood. What else did you and your friends take from my vault!"

"We didn't take anything," Hermione managed to gasp out. "We found it in the forest."

"I don't believe you," Bellatrix spat before pointing her wand at the young girl on the floor and cursing her again.

"Please," she pleaded, as blood began to run from her nose, mixing with the tears streaming from her eyes. "Please, we didn't steal it."

Bellatrix was unmoved.

For the briefest moment, Hermione suddenly understood how Neville's parents had been tortured into madness. There were no words to describe neither the agony nor the hopelessness that filled her soul causing her to pray for death.

Someone hissed from nearby and let out a low growl.

"Let me have a go at her Bella. I'll make her talk."

"Do you hear that Mudblood. If you don't give me the information I need, I shall hand you over to Greyback. He is most persuasive in getting answers out of brave little witches. He can smell your blood."

A shiver ran down her spine. The thought of things Greyback would do to her made her want to vomit, if she hadn't already.

"That won't be necessary, Bella," came a familiar velvety voice.

Hermione tried to think of where she had heard that voice before and focus on the new comer in the room, but she could not make him out.

"What are you doing here, Snape?"

The barely conscious witch could still hear the sneer in his voice: "I was in counsel with the Dark Lord. He informed me that you had captured Miss Granger and she is to come with me."

"Over my dead body!" Bellatrix growled, raising her wand on the Death Eater.

"You dare defy our Lord's command?"

"She is my prisoner! I will do the interrogating here!"

"It would be unwise for you to disobey me, Bellatrix," said a new serpentine voice.

Voldemort.

In an instant, Bellatrix was on her knees, groveling at the hem of the Dark Lord's robes. Severus watched her with masked disgust, bowing himself low before his master.

"I meant not to disobey, my Lord. I would never. I just didn't want this mudblood to escape our grasp with the traitor Snape."

"Severus is not a traitor," Voldemort hissed. "As a former teacher of the mudblood and a former member of the Order, it is possible that he will have better luck in gaining her confidence. Part of this unworthy soul may still trust our friend."

Next thing she knew, Hermione was being levitated off the floor.

"Remember, Severus. If she does not give you anything useful, her fate will be in the hands of Bellatrix and Greyback."

Severus bowed; ignoring the triumphant gloating of the two most vile human beings he had the displeasure of knowing. He levitated the soiled girl out of the room to the apparation point beyond the Malfoy Manor gates and disappeared.

Hermione knew Professor Snape to be a foul, loathsome, evil man and a traitor, but she guessed being with him was much better than being left in the hands of LeStrange and Greyback. On that comforting note, she finally allowed herself to pass out.

Severus Snape was appalled by the condition in which he found Miss Granger. Blood, tears, vomit, and urine saturated her clothes and hair and face. It was remarkable she was still alive. Whether her mind was still intact remained to be seen. And the fact that she had not divulged any information on her friends under such agonizing torture spoke loads about her personal strength—he had seen grown men cave under much less gruesome circumstances.

Once safe within the confines of his office and personal quarters, he set to work tending to the girl's injuries. With a flick of his wand, he stripped her of her clothes and set her in a soothing hot bath to wash the sick from her hair and body. For a brief second he considered calling Poppy Pomfrey to assist him, since it was highly inappropriate that a man, not the girl's father or brother or friend, should handle her naked body. Then he remembered that all of his colleagues and former friends believed him to be the murderer of Dumbledore. It was better if no one else knew the princess of Gryffindor was in the castle with him.

Clean, he lifted her from the dirty bath water and carried her into his bedroom where he placed her on the bed. One of his white button up shirts was Summoned from the wardrobe and fastened around her tiny frame. Severus Snape was not a bulky man. He had broad shoulders, yes, but he was very slender. Years of turmoil had robbed him of his health, and stress did little for his appetite. Yet Miss Granger still seemed to be wrapped in a tent, comparing her small frame to his own.

From the bathroom cabinet he pulled several potions and dumped them down her throat: something to help her recover from the Cruciatus curse, two vials of nourishment potion, and a Dreamless Sleep. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, Severus guessed she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in weeks. It was an ailment they had in common.

Pleased with his handiwork, he tucked Hermione into bed and left her to sleep, while he went into his study to create false memories of him interrogating and torturing Miss Granger to give to the Dark Lord.

Hermione woke from the best rest she had in months; maybe even years. And there were pillows, so very many plush pillows and a fluffy duvet; it was as if she were sleeping on a cloud. A bright light shown in her face, she was sure that it was the bright light people talk about seeing before they die. The lack of pain, her comfortable surroundings, and the bright light all seemed to add up to one conclusion: she had died in Malfoy Manor and was on her way to the beyond, if not already arrived.

Bacon. I can smell bacon. Now I know I am dead.

Ever so slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking at the bright light as her surroundings came into focus. Judging by the darkness outside the window, it was either very late or very early. She was in an enormous bed with several white down-pillows tucked in around her; a fluffy duvet comforter with silver stars against a deep blue backdrop lay on top of her. On the bedside table was a lamp—the source of the bright light—and a tray with steaming hot tea, pancakes, bacon and eggs that made her mouth water. And sleeping upright in an uncomfortable chair beside the bed was none other than Professor Snape.

The young Gryffindor's first instinct was to grab her wand only to remember the alarming truth that she had been disarmed by the Snatcher's and did not know at that present moment where her wand was. It made defending herself again the Death Eater a bit more difficult. Frankly, she was still too tired and too sore to fight.

"Professor Snape?" she said barely audible, her throat still raw from screaming.

In an instant, the dark professor was awake.

"You're awake; at least. Took you long enough," he replied with his usual pleasant sneer.

"How long have I been out?"

"Almost two days. For a while there, I thought that your encounter with Bella combined with my Dreamless Sleep potion had put you in a coma," he replied, rising from his seat to help prop her into a sitting up position against the pillows. Her suspicious glare and slight flinch at his touch did not go unnoticed.

"Rest assured, Miss Granger, you have nothing to fear. I have no intention of harming you."

Hermione eyed the goblet of water he offered her suspiciously, even though she was dying of thirst. "How do I know your kindness is not just a way to manipulate me into giving you information on Harry? Not that I know where he is, anyway. But I remember you saying something at the Manor about gaining my trust."

"If I wanted information, Miss Granger, it would be all too easy to delve into your mind and take it. Now drink and eat your breakfast like an obedient little Gryffindor. It's been waiting there for you since this morning," he ordered.

The witch was still not convinced. "So you are going to nurse me back to health before handing me over to be tortured some more? No thanks."

"I am not Count Rugen, Miss Granger, and this is not the Pit of Despair. I have already been to the Dark Lord with false memories of my torturing you and was able to convince him that you truly do not know where Mr. Potter is. I also persuaded him it is better that you stay here as bate to lure Mr. Potter instead of hand you over to Bella and Greyback. You will be permitted to send him a message later informing him of your hostage situation. In the mean time you will do as I say and perhaps show a little more gratitude."

Hermione could not hide the slight smirk that graced her lips at the Death Eater's reference to The Princess Bride—one of her favorite novels.

"Vol—You-Know-Who believed fake memories?"

"I have been doing this for many years, Miss Granger. I am quite skilled in using Occlumancy to my advantage against the Dark Lord. Why do you think I have made such a convincing spy?"

"Because you are a traitor, perhaps?"

Snape turned from where he was standing by the window, a fierce glare on his face that caused Hermione to gulp audibly.

"I do not have to defend my actions to you, Miss Granger," he spat, then stormed out of the room, his robes billowing behind him.

"Severus, come in."

The wizard entered the chamber and knelt before the Dark Lord.

"How may I serve, my Lord?"

"My friend I am concerned about the origins of the sword found on the Mudblood's person. Did you not place it in the LeStrange vault as I ordered?"

"Indeed my Lord."

"Bellatrix is convinced that Potter and the Mudblood and Blood Traitor Weasley may have found a way to break into her husband's vault and steal the sword."

"It is highly unlikely, my Lord. But if you wish it, I will go check first thing in the morning."

"I do, Severus. I must away on some personal business as soon as possible and it would greatly put my mind at ease to know the true sword if safe."

"Your wish is my command, my Lord. It will be done."

Voldemort hissed out what Snape guessed was to be a sigh. "If only all of my followers were as faithful and trustworthy as you, my dear Severus. Come, sit. There is another matter I wish to discuss with you."

Severus thanked his master for his generosity and took a seat in the empty wingback chair beside Voldemort's; both wizards staring silently into the fire.

"I believe what was meant to be a rescue attempt of the Mudblood this afternoon resulted in the rescue of all the prisoners in the dungeon, Severus, including Ollivander."

"How, my Lord? The wards here are impenetrable."

"That conniving Potter used a House elf. I believe the one who used to be servant to this house. As you can see, Wormtail has paid for his folly. Have any attempts been made on the Mudblood?"

The Death Eater followed the Dark Lord's gave toward the corner, where both their eyes fell on Nagini, a large lump protruding from her middle. Serves the incompetent bastard right. "No, my Lord. She is secure in the dungeons. I checked before coming here. If Potter want's her, he will have to come and get her," Severus replied with a malicious sneer.

"Very good. I must see to my business quickly in time to catch Potter in my trap. Go now, my friend, and report back to me what you find."

Bowing low once more, he left the Manor and returned to Hogwarts as fast as he could.

While she waited for Snape to return, Hermione at her breakfast preoccupied herself with exploring the delightfully vast library in the Headmaster's sitting room. There were many treasures there not to be found in the Hogwarts Library. She eagerly selected a few tomes and settled into a large wingback chair, tucking her legs beneath her and covering them with the tales of the tent-like white shirt she wore.

"The elves will have your clothes ready by tomorrow morning, Miss Granger. For the time being, my shirt will have to do," he informed her.

Waking in his starchy white shirt with no other undergarments had been slightly alarming for her, but she was nonetheless grateful to not still be in the soiled clothes she had been wearing at Malfoy Manor. The shirt was long enough to cover all vital parts and allow her to maintain her modesty. She also enjoyed the musky smell of potions the shirt seemed to be saturated with.

The man himself burst through the door, scaring her half to death while she was caught up in her reading.

"You must send a message to Potter now! Tell them to meet me at Duke's Corner in Dundee in the morning," he ordered.

"What's happened, Professor?"

"The Dark Lord has ordered that I check on the sword in the LeStrange vault. There is no way in hell Potter would ever be able to get in there to search for a horcrux but I can."

"So if you find one, you will give it to Harry to destroy?"

"Correct," he said, handing the witch her wand.

"But you have the real sword. Why not destroy it yourself?"

"Do try to act intelligent Miss Granger," he replied with a sneer. "If I were to destroy a horcrux hidden in that vault, if indeed there is one, and I just happened to be the last person to be in said vault in possession of an instrument the Dark Lord knows can destroy a horcrux, who do you think will get the blame?"

"So you plan to give it to Harry, tell Vol—You-Know-Who that the sword is safe, and have Harry destroy it later?"

"See? I knew you had a brain. Now cast a patronus."

Hermione obeyed.

Harry, I am safe for the time being at Hogwarts with Professor Snape. He is not as bad as we believed him to be. We think there may be a you-know-what in the LeStrange vault at Gringotts. The real sword is supposed to be locked up in there and Snape has been ordered by You-Know-Who to make sure that the one that appeared to you and Ron is a fake. If he finds a you-know-what he will meet you at Duke's Corner in Dundee in the morning. This is not a trap. Things are different than they seem and I am asking you to trust me and to trust him.

Snape nodded his approval of the message, and with a flick of her wand, the silvery otter disappeared out the window. Dawn was just beginning to crest over the mountains.

"Now, Miss Granger, if there is in fact a horcrux in Bella's vault, what am I looking for?"

Hermione thought for a few silent minutes, tallying all of the other horcruxes up in her head. "It would most likely be an artifact belonging to one of the Founders—the last one we destroyed was Salezar Slytherin's locket." She stepped to one of the books she had been browsing and, flipping to the desired page, held it out to him. "Either Hufflepuff's chalise, or"—flipping a few pages—"the lost diadem of Ravenclaw."

He examined each picture closely, committing to memory of what each artifact looked like.

"I must go. The Dark Lord is not a patient man and he will expect me at Gringotts the moment it opens," the professor said, as he took Gryffindor's sword from its case in his office and dropped it into Hermione's beaded bag. "If I manage to get out of that bank alive with a horcrux, I will conceal it in this and give it to Mr. Potter. Is there anything you need out of it?"

The witch had completely forgotten all about her bag and extra clothes she had stashed in it. Walking up to the professor, she reached in all the way up to her shoulder and began removing various articles of her own clothing.

"I figured you'd want your shirt back," she said with a smirk.

With a curt nod, Severus tied the bag strings, concealed it within the folds of his robes and was gone again.

Hermione went back to her book and anxiously awaited the Professor's return.

August 2009, London UK:

"Well I think that is a good place to stop, tonight."

"But mum, you can't stop now! What happens to dad? Did he find a horcrux?" Toby exclaimed.

"It is an hour past your bed time, love," she said, moving off the bed and adjusting the covers. "This is a long story. I will tell you more tomorrow night."

The boy begrudgingly settled into his bed and let his mother kiss him goodnight. How was he supposed to sleep now when all he could think about was his dad breaking in to Gringotts? Surprisingly, he fell asleep faster than he thought he would.

Hermione retreated into her bedroom, and after readying herself for bed, she sat down at her computer. Every night, she devoted an hour to searching the internet for any possible leads on the current whereabouts of Severus Snape, Sr. In the three months since celebrating the 10 year Anniversary of Voldemort's Death, she was convinced the man was alive and well somewhere, possibly hiding in the muggle world, and she was on a mission to find him; not for herself but for their son. He deserved to meet his father if in fact he was alive.

It all began back in March, just after Toby celebrated his 10th birthday. An official letter from Gringotts came, requesting a meeting with the mother and legal guardian of Severus Snape's only child and heir. The letter itself, was tucked away in a file with any other clues, Hermione had gleaned over the past few months.

Dear Miss Granger,

A matter of great concern has arisen in regards to the last Will and Testament of Severus Tobias Snape. As the mother and legal guardian of Mr. Snape's only child, Severus Snape Jr., your presence is requested for a meeting with Gringotts Account Manager, Mason Goldlust, tomorrow the 5th of February, 2009.

Best regards,

Epstein Templeton

Clerk, Gringotts Wizarding Bank

The next afternoon, while Toby was at school, she took an extended lunch break and went to Gringotts.

"Miss Granger, thank you for responding so promptly to my message. We are hoping to get this issue resolved with Mr. Snape's estate as soon as possible," the goblin said from behind his large ornately carved desk.

"May I ask Mr. Goldlust why it has taken so long to inform me of my son's inheritance? His father has been dead for nearly ten years."

"A very legitimate question, Miss Granger. Because 's body was never actually recovered from the scene following the battle at Hogwarts, I am afraid the testimonies given by yourself, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were strictly hearsay in the eyes of the law. It is true that the Ministry took the three of you at your word and a funeral took place honoring Mr. Snape. However, similar to muggles when a death has not been officially confirmed, a period of time must elapse before the individual can be legally declared dead. In this case, ten years."

"So you are saying that unless Severus decides to make himself known in the next couple of weeks, in May he will be officially declared dead?"

"Precisely," Goldlust said with a smile. "At which time, Mr. Snape's last Will and Testament will be executed. This is where we come to the interesting part, Miss Granger. You see, at the time that Mr. Snape made his Will, he had not yet conceived a child. Said conception of your son took place days before his father's death, correct?" Hermione nodded. "I'll just read what it says then. Perhaps that will clarify everything:

I, Severus Tobias Snape, being of sound mind and judgment do make my last Will and Testament, dated the ninth day of January, year nineteen hundred and ninety-eight.

Having no children and no other living relative to bequeath a legacy to, it is my wish that all of my worldly assets, monies and properties be donated to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A portion of my assets is to be used to fund scholarships for underprivileged witches and wizards who attend said School. The contents of my personal library may be integrated into the School's Library at the discretion of the Headmaster/ess and Librarian.

I will not be offended in the least if my family homes, both the dilapidated remains of Prince House and my home in Spinnett's End, are sold off or destroyed. It is actually my preference that they be destroyed if no useful purpose can be made of them.

And lastly, I insist that a shrine not be erected in my name. Give all of the glory to sodding Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. I don't want it!

"It is signed and dated the ninth of January, nineteen-ninety-eight," Goldlust said, folding the official parchment and handing it to the witch.

"I'm not sure I understand the issue, Mr. Goldlust," she said after rereading it for herself. "It says that all of his money is to go to Hogwarts—a very admirable decision. So what does this have to do with my son?"

"Mr. Snape unknowingly set a legal condition for the inheritance, Miss Granger. The Will is interpreted in the eyes of the law that had he known of the existence of an heir at the time he made the Will; everything would go to him or her. Hogwarts School gets everything on the condition that an heir is not produced. You and Mr. Snape, incidentally, produced said heir. According to the law, young Mr. Snape gets everything."

Hermione's jaw dropped to the floor.

"As the boy's mother and guardian, you will of course have power of attorney over the inheritance until young Mr. Snape reaches the age of maturity on his seventeenth birthday."

The witch could hardly believe it.

"I'm assuming, Mr. Goldlust, that you have a detailed record of exactly what it is my son has inherited?"

"Of course," he replied, handing her a large folio. "This will of course not take effect until the second of May when Mr. Snape will be declared legally dead."

"Of course," Hermione mumbled, already perusing through the many sheets of parchment.

Over the next few weeks, she made an intense study of everything included in the inheritance: two houses, a large bank balance, books, furniture, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Hermione also replayed her conversation with Goldlust in her head several times. Up until that moment, nearly ten years after the fact, she had been one hundred percent sure that Severus Snape was dead—he had died in her arms for crying out loud. But suddenly, all of the little quirks began to add up:

His body was never recovered from the Shrieking Shack. After Harry's final face-off with Voldemort, the clean-up began. The grounds were searched for bodies, friend or foe, and brought to the Great Hall where families could claim them. Snape's body, however, mysteriously disappeared and there were no clues as to where it went or who might have taken it.

His portrait, that Harry insisted be hung in the Headmaster's office with all of the other great Headmaster's of Hogwarts, was not a moving portrait like the others. It was said that was because of the controversial nature in which the portrait was hung. Technically, Severus abandoned his post and was thus unworthy of having his portrait hung. The other speculation was that the spell to make it a captured essence of his soul, did not work. The artist insisted that he had cast the spell perfectly. If Headmaster Snape was indeed truly dead, his portrait in the Headmaster's office should move.

And finally, Goblin's had a way of knowing when a witch or wizard died. Even with the law in place preventing them from closing the case until he was legally pronounced dead, the Goblin's still would know whether Severus Snape was indeed undeniably dead. However, not once during her conversation with Goldlust did he refer to the wizard as the late Mr. Snape.

"The son of a bitch is alive!" Hermione exclaimed, thankful that she had the sense to cast a privacy charm on her room so Toby would not overhear her use of profanity.

It was not long after that that she found in the ledger a large withdrawal had taken place days before his death—ten-thousand gallons of be precise—a large enough sum to start over somewhere under a new identity. That revelation sparked Hermione's search using all muggle and magical means possible. Nothing came up when she searched for anything related to "Snape" except Toby's facebook profile so she decided to look under his mother's maiden name, Prince, remembering that he had once used it as his pseudonym at Hogwarts. Result: ten million related links. Every night she spent an hour combing through as many as she could, put possible leads into her folder, and would investigate the lead when time permitted. Thus far, they had all been dead ends.

Tonight, however, something caught her attention.

Bakery in Manchester Celebrates its Grand Opening: November 13, 1998.

At first glance it was nothing but fluff, until she noticed the name of the Bakery: Prince's Pastry. Clicking on the link, Hermione read the whole article. It was hardly surprising that there was no picture of the owner—one Reggie Prince— included; just the shop front.

The possibility that Severus Snape would fake his own death in order to become a muggle baker seemed remote. So remote, in fact, that the witch was sure if anyone was looking for Severus Snape, the last place they would look would be a bakery shop in Manchester.

Printing the article and the shops coordinates, Hermione made a mental note to visit the shop at her earliest convenience.

September 2009, London:

"So what happened next, mum? Did dad find a horcrux?"

For once in his short life, Toby Snape did not fight his mother when she told him it was time to get ready for bed; bathing, brushing his teeth and changing into his pajama's in record speed.

Once again, Hermione took her place resting against the headboard, however, Toby was much too excited to snuggle this time.

May 1998:

Severus appeared in the deserted main walkway of Diagon Alley. It was quite desolate now compared to the lively and magical place it had been just two years ago. The Dark Lord's Reign of Terror had forcibly shut business owner's down and sent them running for the hills. The chill that shuddered down his spine had nothing to do with the cool spring breeze, but the haunting silence.

He walked up the cobblestone road and entered the vast white marble building that was Gringotts Bank.

"I am here to inquire why the sword of Godric Gryffindor was found in the possession of a Mudblood teenager the other day when I placed it in Madam LeStrange's vault myself. Has there been an unreported break-in?" he said in his intimidating authoritative voice.

The goblin standing on a tall stool behind the counter gave the Death Eater a toothy growl. "There have been no break-ins or break-outs, Mr. Snape, ever in the history of Gringotts. Only attempts."

"I will be the judge of that! You will have someone take me down to the vault, now, where I may see for myself that the sword is where I placed it," Snape ordered.

"One moment, Mr. Snape," the goblin seethed, climbing down from his stool.

A few impatient minutes later, a nondescript goblin in a black uniform appeared to escort Severus. In all his years of coming to Gringotts, he never got used to the jostling and stomach turning ride on the cart through the vault caves, personally considering it an immense achievement if he managed to leave the bank without blowing chunks.

The cart stopped near the very deep bottom of the cave. Once past the albino dragon, the goblin unlocked the heavily warded vault door.

The Death Eater stepped over the threshold, taking his time to gaze over the many shinny artifacts contained therein, making the excuse that he was moving slowly so as not to touch or knock anything over. Thanks to the application of Gemino and Flagrante curses, doing so would burn the intruder as well as cause a chain reaction making the disturbed item to multiply thus disturbing other items. The sword he knew had been placed on a shelf toward the back.

There were goblets and tiaras aplenty within the vault, but nothing yet that looked like what Hermione had shown him and he was running out of room.

Then, all at once he saw it—a gold chalice imprinted with a badger—resting on the shelf just beneath where he had laid the sword replica. ("See, I knew he would find it!" Toby interrupted.) Ever so subtly, Snape loosened the strings on the beaded bag concealed within his robe. Being sure to block the whole shelf from the scrutinizing gaze of the goblin waiting at the entrance, he reached up to grab the sword with one hand and dropped the goblet into the bag with the other. For several seconds he pretended to carefully examine the sword he knew to be a fake before placing it back on the shelf and exiting the vault.

"Was everything satisfactory, Sir?" the goblin asked as he moved the cart forward.

"Indeed."

Once in the main lobby, Severus stormed out of the bank as fast as he could without drawing any more unwanted attention to himself, and apparated away.

Harry and Ron sat at the closest table to the door of the Duke's Corner pub in case any Death Eaters decided to ambush them the way they had in the London café and they needed to make a quick get-away. Considering who they were supposed to be meeting, each wizard was sure they had walked into a trap but had no choice but to hope that Hermione had not been Impuriosed to say what she did in the message.

Receiving her Patronus message had been startling to be sure. All the more frightening was that she declared herself to be safe with Snape, Dumbledore's murderer and hater of all things Gryffindor.

When they first arrived at Shell Cottage, Ron had been positively beside himself with worry and he kept screaming that they had to do something but had no suggestions as to what. Harry was equally worried about his friend and equally stumped as how he could help her. What luck that it was The Brains of their operation that should be captured. They didn't even know where the Snatcher's had taken her. It was Bill who guessed that she had been taken directly to the Dark Lord rather than to the Ministry since Hermione's face was so widely publicized at Undesirable #3: Mudblood and Friend of Harry Potter.

"They're probably already torturing her to death!" Ron cried, as he paced nervously about the room. With every passing minute, the more and more distressed he became.

Harry palmed the shard of the two way mirror in his hand as if it held the magical solution to their problem. The brilliant blue eye of Dumbledore stared back at him.

"Is there any way you can help us rescue Hermione?" he pleaded.

Suddenly, Dobby the elf appeared with a loud crack.

"Dobby is here to help his friend Harry Potter!" he said excitedly.

"Brilliant! Dobby, Hermione was captured by some Snatcher's and I think she has been taken to Malfoy Manor. Can you rescue her and anyone else being held prisoner there?"

"Anything for Harry Potter!" and Dobby disappeared.

A few minutes later, Dobby reappeared with Mr. Ollivander, Luna, Dean Thomas and a Gringotts goblin; all of whom looked like they had been through the ringer.

Bill and Fleur rushed forward to help the frail wandmaker and goblin, who it seemed had suffered the most, up to separate bedrooms to rest while Harry and Ron greeted their classmates.

"Dobby was not able to save Miss Grangy. Nasty Snape came and took her to Hogwarts."

"Snape?! Well, can't you get her from Hogwarts?"

The little elf shook his head, sadly. "Dobby is sorry, but he cannot."

"Snape will invade her mind. He will learn what we have been doing and tell You-Know-Who! We have to get her out of there!" Ron shouted.

Dobby began to sob. "Dobby is sorry he could not help his friend Harry Potter."

Harry knelt and captured the elf in a fierce hug. "It's okay, Dobby. You did your best and you saved the others."

"I don't think Professor Snape has any intention of hurting Hermione."

All eyes turned on Luna.

"I mean, if he wanted to use Occlumancy on her, why not do it at Malfoy Manor in front of You-Know-Who? I think Professor Snape has taken Hermione to Hogwarts so he can protect her under the disguise that he is going to get information out of her. He may be a nasty man but he has always looked out for the students of Hogwarts."

Ron and Dean both scoffed loudly. "Hasn't been my experience with that git."

"Well, there isn't a whole lot we can do about it now but wait and see. Despite his faults, I think we can all agree that Snape is a safer choice than Bellatrix LeStrange," said Harry, to which they all agreed.

For the next thirty-six hours, Harry tried to make the most of the situation and not think of what awful horrors his best friend might be undergoing. He talked to Mr. Ollivander about the Deathly Hallows and to Luna about possible Ravenclaw heirlooms that could have been used as a horcrux.

"The most famous is perhaps her lost diadem," she said in her usual airy voice.

"What's that?" Harry and Ron asked in unison.

"It's a sort of crown."

"Do you have any idea what it may look like?"

Luna took a piece of parchment and a pencil from the desk in the sitting room and began to sketch. When she finished, she handed it to Harry.

"I don't know what the color of the gemstone is. I have only seen its representation on Rowena Ravenclaw's marble statue in our common room."

For some reason, Harry had the feeling he was sure he had seen that diadem before.

"It's a start. Thank you Luna."

Early the next morning, just before Hermione's patronus arrived, Harry had a dream. In it he saw Gaunt's ring, Tom Riddle's Diary, Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's chalice, and the Ravenclaw crest at Hogwarts castle. Suddenly, he remembered where he had seen that diadem before.

"Ron! Ron! Wake up!" he said in an urgent whisper.

The red-haired wizard grumbled in reply, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Wa is it?"

"I know where a horcrux is!"

"In the bag mate," Ron replied, pointing at Hermione's beaded bad on the nightstand.

"No Ron! I know what another one is!"

At last Ron became more alert and attentive. "Where Harry?"

"I was dreaming. You-Know-Who was thinking about them. He's worried they aren't safe. But I saw the Ravenclaw crest and Hogwarts."

"So it's at Hogwarts?"

"Yes!" Harry was a little perturbed as to why his friend was a little more excited about this.

"That's great and all but where in Hogwarts is it. I mean, in case you haven't noticed it's a bloody big castle with millions of places to hide a crown."

"Here's the really great part. You remember I hid the Half-blood Prince's potion book in the Room of Requirement, right? Well, I told Hermione I hid it in a place I would never find in when the truth is I hid it somewhere no one else would find it. I put the book in a cabinet with a marble bust of a goblin on it and on the goblins head I placed a tiara."

"The diadem?!" Harry nodded. "Brilliant mate!"

A few minutes later, a silvery otter patronus burst into the room and delivered Hermione's message. Ron didn't believe she was safe for one minute in the clutches of Snape and was adamant it was a trap, but still agreed to go along to the pub with Harry.

And so they waited, their wands tucked stealthy up their sleeves. More and more town's folk filed in for lunch making the pub rather noisy. The two wizards nearly jumped out of their seats every time the door opened, drawing not a few stares from the surrounding muggles, until at last the man of the hour walked in.

Without a word, Snape thrust the beaded bag into Harry's hands. "It's in there. Just do me the favor of not destroying it until you come to Hogwarts," he sneered.

"And what makes you think I am coming to Hogwarts?" Harry wasn't about to admit that he and Ron had decided hours earlier to get into Hogwarts as soon as they finished their meeting with it's Headmaster.

"Because, your friend is at Hogwarts, Potter. And she is counting on you to save her," Snape replied with a sinister grin.

Ron nearly throttled the Death Eater. "You better not hurt one hair on her head," he threatened.

"Calm yourself, Mr. Weasley. You do not want to make a scene. As it stands Miss Granger is perfectly safe. At the moment I believe she is availing herself on my library—happy as a clam—as the expression goes."

"You-Know-Who expects me to rescue Hermione. That's why you took her; to trap me!" Harry spat.

"I convinced him that is why he should let me take her. Otherwise Bellatrix and Greyback would have been permitted to do their worst. Because of me, Miss Granger is alive as are you!"

"How do I know he isn't there waiting for me?"

"Because as soon as I make my report the Dark Lord will be going on a journey to see to a personal matter. My guess is that it will take him at least a day to get everywhere he needs to go. I suggest you get to the castle before he does and do what you need to do."

Harry picked up on the wizard's hint. With all the civility he could muster towards a man he absolutely loathed, Harry did the unthinkable and thanked Professor Snape for saving his friend and bringing him a horcrux.

…

Lord Voldemort sat in his private quarters at Malfoy Manor, impatiently awaiting Severus' return. Time was of the essence and he needed to check on his beloved horcruxes. Ever so arrogant in his greatness, the Dark Lord thought it highly unlikely that the boy would have figured out his secret. That, however, did not mean that Dumbledore hadn't, meaning it was highly likely, as Dumbledore's favorite, that he had told Potter about them as well. This is why he needed Severus to hurry back and tell him, indirectly, that the one in Gringotts was safe.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Enter!" Voldemort commanded.

Severus walked through the door and knelt before his master. "My Lord, the sword is safe. One of the goblins confirmed the one found in the Mudblood's possession is a fake—a very convincing replica, but nonetheless a fake."

The Dark Lord let out an internal sigh while never betraying his exterior expression.

"Good work, my friend. Go now! Return to Hogwarts. I will be with you soon to prepare for the boy's arrival."

The Death Eater bowed low once more and quitted the room. Voldemort departed soon after, his first destination being Gaunt's shack.

Hermione shrieked when the large fireplace before her burst to life and Severus Snape stepped out of the green flames. Without acknowledging her presence, he marched to the sideboard against the wall where he kept his stash of assorted liquors. The witch watched the man disregard a glass and slug back several large swigs of firewhiskey straight from the bottle.

Gaging his mood, she thought it would be better to give the alcohol a few minutes to sink into his veins before speaking.

"How did it go, Professor?" she asked once he had set the bottle down in its place.

He turned his intense dark gaze on her before collapsing into his favorite chair across from where she was sitting on the sofa.

"He bought it," Severus said, scrubbing a hand over his weary face. "The chalice was in the vault and it is now in Potter's possession along with the sword."

"That's great! Only two more to go," she said, leaping to her feet and doing a happy dance.

The wizard simply watched her with raised eyebrows—never in the seven years he had known the Granger swat had he ever witnessed or expected a happy dance from her.

"Indeed," he said dryly causing her to stop her gyrations and blush fiercely with embarrassment.

"You must be famished, Professor," Hermione said, quickly changing the subject. He shrugged. "I met Binny. Maybe she can bring us an early supper and you can tell me everything that happened and what's been happening at Hogwarts."

Severus rolled his eyes at the witch's exuberance but acquiesced. He really was hungry.

Binny appeared with a soft pop, a large tray of dinner choices in her arms. As soon as it was set on the table, she left and Hermione filled a plate with turkey and assorted sides before handing it to the professor for which he thanked her. Several minutes passed in silence while they ate. By his second plate, Severus was more willing to engage the chit's pleas and tell her about his adventure to the bank and meeting with Potter.

"And he bought it?!" she exclaimed. "That man really is so arrogant in his own supremeness to not question you or check for himself."

"Would you have preferred he saw through my ruse and killed me, Miss Granger?"

"Of course not! It's just, I have been sitting here for hours certain that at any minute he is going to appear and tell me he's killed you and Harry before he kills me. I am elated that your plan worked. We are that much closer to destroying him before he destroys us."

"You need not waist your energy worrying yourself on my behalf, Miss Granger. Before this war is over, I will certainly meet my end."

Hermione fell back into her seat, completely deflated and frankly shocked by the professor's pessimistic outcome. "The chances of us all being killed a certainly high, but that doesn't mean…"

"No, Miss Granger. Your hopeful outlook is all very touching and naïve. However, I have played this game long enough to know that at some point my loyalty to the Dark Lord will be tested on the battlefield and when the time comes that I am ordered to kill a student or colleague and refuse to do so, a fellow Death Eater will not hesitate to end me. Thus you see, Miss Granger, it is a hopeless case."

She watched his take a swig of his firewhiskey. "Have you no hope whatsoever, Sir?"

"My only hope is that the Dark Lord will be defeated once and for all."

A haunting silence passed between them for several minutes before she redirected the conversation to the goings on at Hogwarts.

He told her about the underground movement led by Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley that, as Headmaster, he took a page out of Dumbledore's book and decided to ignore them; all the while silently encouraging their actions. The curriculum had become more centered around learning to wield the Dark Arts rather than defend; harsher punishments, on the verge of torture were administered to rule-breakers; the diversity among the student body had basically become none existent; and all of the magic that made Hogwarts such a wonderful place was gone.

"So you protect the students by ignoring their rule breaking and basically flying under You-Know-Who's radar?"

"Precisely."

"How very clever of you, Professor," she said, toasting her glass of pumpkin juice to him; "You have successfully fooled us all."

In return, Severus nodded his head in acknowledgement of her compliment and raised his glass to return the toast.

Deciding to change subjects again, she began telling him everything that had happened since that night Dumbledore died: sending her parents into hiding and Obiviating their memories, impersonating Harry and their narrow escape from the Death Eaters, going on the run after Bill Weasley's wedding, getting Salazar Slytherin's locket from Umbridge, Ron getting splinched and abandoning them, their visit to Godric's Hallow and encountering Nagini, finding Gryffindor's Sword, their meeting with Mr. Lovegood, and her capture.

"I guess we have you to thank for bringing us the sword, Professor," she said when she was finished with her tale.

"You're welcome," he replied.

Hermione's eyes met his in an intense staring match. Being with him, talking like this, had changed every bad thing she had ever thought about the wizard. Given everything he had been through, she couldn't blame him or hate him the way she wanted to—the way Harry and Ron wanted her to—anymore. His life had been hard, making him a hard man as a result of it. In that moment, she truly respected him.

Blushing, she broke eye contact and looked about the room for anything to look at but him. Books! Books were a safe and cheerful topic.

"I noticed, Sir, that you have an extensive muggle literature collection among your books."

"Was that meant to be a question?"

"No. Just changing subjects."

"Unlike most Slytherin's, Miss Granger, I believe muggles have virtues that magical folk do not—great literature being one of them."

"I don't think it is only a Slytherin problem, Professor. Ron is always telling me how pointless muggle technology is."

"Well, young Mr. Weasley is not the brightest bulb in his father's collection."

Hermione sniggered. Explaining science and technology or anything remotely muggle to the Weasley patriarch could be such a chore but she loved his enthusiasm to learn nonetheless. Ron, however, could be so narrow-minded sometimes. It was strangely comforting to know she could talk about muggle things with Professor Snape and he would understand, rather than regard her as a freak.

Severus soon found himself engaged in a stimulating conversation with the young chit comparing the differences between the magical and muggle worlds and the advantages of both. Such conversation he had not enjoyed since Dumbledore died. She even managed to make him laugh. Laugh! Out loud, a full and deep rib-shaking laugh. Her shocked expression only made him laugh harder.

The clock on the mantel chimed nine. Standing from his chair, the professor let out a drawn out yawn and stretch.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think I will call it a night. Tomorrow will undoubtedly be a very busy day. I suggest you get some rest," he said moving toward his bedroom door. Hermione insisted that he take the bed since she wanted to stay up reading for a while longer and was perfectly content with the sofa. Reluctantly, he acquiesced, his chivalry telling him he ought to let her take the bed.

"Before you go, Professor, may I ask you a question?"

He nodded.

"Why did you kill Dumbledore?"

Severus considered at her for several tense minutes.

"Draco, had been charged by the Dark Lord with the impossible task of killing Albus as punishment for his father's mishap at the Ministry. Well, Albus Dumbledore, ever the believer in sparing the innocent, made me swear to do it. He said it was the only way the Dark Lord would trust me completely. And my soul is damaged whereas Draco was still innocent."

"Is that the truth? Or are you just saying that so I will trust you more?"

"It is the truth, Miss Granger," he replied, resuming his seat in the wing-back chair opposite her. "I have not been a loyal Death Eater since I was a young man. I made an Unbreakable Vow to Dumbledore shortly before the Dark Lord disappeared the first time."

"Why?"

"To save a friend."

"Did it work?"

"No."

"It all makes sense now, why Dumbledore trusted you so implicitly. He kept telling us to trust you. I really wanted to, but Harry was adamant that you were a Death Eater. I mean you are, but he was convinced you betrayed Dumbledore the night you killed him."

They sat in mutual silence for several minutes as Hermione digested this new revelation. The professor just watched her; almost sure he could see the wheels in her head turning.

"Your friend must have meant a great deal to you," she said finally.

He nodded.

"I'm sorry they died."

…

Running. She was always running and someone was always chasing her. Ron and Harry were running through the woods with her. The suddenly she was prone on the floor of Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix LeStrange, Greyback, the three Malfoy's and Voldermort we all standing over her, their wands pointed. Each tip glowed a different color, indicative of the curse each individual was about to cast: the Crusiotus, the Killing, and other torture curses.

"No please," she pleaded. "I don't know where he is." Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked into the merciless eyes of her tormentors. "Please."

The wand tips grew brighter, the pain and death eminent.

Hermione sat up with a start, panting into the darkness. A dream; it was just a dream. She was safe at Hogwarts with Professor Snape as her protector. It seemed to be the ultimate irony given who she thought he was just a few days before. In a word, he was the ultimate enigma—private, mysterious, devilishly clever, and loyal.

Like she did when she was a child after having a bad dream, she crept from her bed on the sofa into the bedroom of the nearest adult.

"If I didn't know it was you, Miss Granger, you would be dead by now," Snape said, in a low deep voice, his wand in hand and trained on her form as she neared the bed.

Not bothering to ask for permission, Hermione snuggled under the heavy duvet on the farthest side of the bed away from him.

"I didn't mean to wake you, Sir. I just had a nightmare."

"You didn't wake me, Miss Granger. I rarely sleep soundly these days and I could hear you moaning in the next room."

The witch was grateful he could not see her blush in the dark. The way he said moaning made it sound like a different kind of moaning.

"I'm guessing you were the type of child who felt comfortable crawling into bed with your parents any time you were scared in the night," he said dryly.

"Yes, Sir. My mother would sing to me and hold me until I fell asleep."

"Do not expect me to do either."

"I don't," she said with a chuckle. "Did you ever crawl in with your parents when you were scared, Professor?"

"No."

"You must have been born a very brave child. I on the other hand continuously wonder why I was placed in the House of the Courageous. I am anything but brave."

"Courage is learned, Miss Granger. It is a trait people are rarely born with."

Hermione interpreted his indifferent tone as a hint he wanted silence and sleep. Rolling onto her side facing away from Snape, she settled in to savor a few more needed hours of sleep.

"I think you're very brave, Professor," she whispered before drifting off.

September 2009, London:

"The next morning, I woke in your daddy's arms. He kissed me and we made you. I think that is enough for tonight, dear. We can continue tomorrow."

Toby tried to protest, like all small children do, by saying he wasn't tired even though he could barely keep his eyes open. By the time Hermione kissed his brow and switched off the light, he was already slumbering sweetly.

As she lay in bed that night, her mind reviewed in greater detail—details she did not want to share with her nine year old son—what truly happened that morning. Sprawling out in her vastly empty bed, Hermione recalled with a measure of bittersweet melancholy the warmth of his body pressed against hers; his tender touch; the softness of his lips; the yearning in his eyes.

May 1998, Hogwarts:

The bright morning light streamed in through the window, shining right in Severus' face. One of these days, he kept telling himself, he was going to have a house elf install a drape over the window to allow him a decent lie-in. Just a few more minutes, he wished, having received the best, most pleasant and restful night's sleep he could recall having in years. Such a wonderful dream, he thought, nestled against the tiny frame of a beautiful witch, with soft sweet-smelling hair, and voluptuous curves he had enjoyed stroking in the night.

With a groan, he buried his face deeper into his pillow; his pillow covered in soft but frizzy brown curls.

Snape's eyes shot wide open as he realized he was not in fact dreaming. He was curled up against the body of none other than Hermione Granger, clad in his white shirt. His one arm she was using as her pillow; his other was draped across her abdomen. To his abject horror, the hand attached to said arm also happened to be cupping her breast while his morning erection ground again the chit's derrière. Sweet merlin I am molesting a student! The contented smirk on the young witch's lips went completely unnoticed as he attempted to move, rather hastily, away from her.

"Not yet, Professor," Hermione whispered, latching hold of his wrist with catlike reflexes to keep the wizard from moving away from her and holding his hand to her breast. "I haven't slept this good in months. Today may be the last day of our lives so please, please don't go away yet. Cherish this with me."

Severus wasn't sure what his course of action should be. All self-discipline and moral code told him to flee with all immediate haste; yet his yearning to linger, to relish the rare comfort of holding her and she holding him was too great of an allure.

What harm was there really in offering comfort to the girl? he thought.

It was several minutes before the witch in his arms spoke again. She simply lay there clutching his arm to her chest.

"Does it hurt, Professor?" she whispered.

"Does what hurt?"

"This," she replied, holding his forearm away from her breast so that she could examine the terrifying Dark Mark burned in to his skin.

Normally, Severus was not in the habit of wearing short sleeves to keep the mark hidden, except when in the privacy of his room. Privacy he allowed this girl to penetrate.

"Only when he summons me. Or someone says his name. Most of the time it is just a dull ache. Annoying, but you get used to it I suppose."

Surprisingly, Hermione did not recoil from the mark as he expected she would. Everyone not branded themselves feared and loathed the mark. It repelled people. But not her. She studied it intently, a multitude of meanings contained in her scrunched brow.

And then she kissed it. A sweet, lingering kiss that managed to momentarily dispel the ache in his arm before she resumed holding it to her chest.

"You'd think he, with an ego as big as his, would have chosen something other than a skull to represent his movement. It's been done, a lot, and is highly unoriginal," she said, dryly.

This made Severus chuckle; a deep, low chuckle. He had never thought of his mark in that way. To him it was something to be reviled, ashamed of; but to her it seemed to be unimportant and boring even.

She didn't really though. The mark made Hermione sad. The last few days in close company with the Headmaster had opened up a whole new perspective of him. He had been a Death Eater, once, many years ago, lured by unfulfilled promises of glory. The follies of youth, she called them. But he had seen the error of his ways and devoted his life to righting the mistake he made as an impulsive lad. The mark made her sad because he was forever branded with the memory of that mistake. It wasn't enough that he had to carry the guilt in his heart, he had to face the proof of it every damn day and anyone who saw it would never be able to see past it. Past the mark to the heart of the man, a good man, who regrettably bore it.

"Professor?"

"Yes Miss Granger?"

"I'm sorry I set your robes on fire. And I am sorry I stole from your potion stores. And I am sorry I hexed you in the Shrieking Shack. And I'm sorry for all other offenses I have made against you. And I just wanted you to know I appreciate you saving my life—more than once."

Snape didn't know what to say. He knew she had done all of those things and more with her two cohorts and watched her get away with it. That was the most infuriating part.

Was he really still mad at her for it though? No, not really.

He snuggled in closer to her, bringing his body flush against hers.

"It is I who should be apologizing, Miss Granger. I should have done more to protect you. I should have…"

Snape had not apologized to a single soul since his falling out with Lily Evans. It had been humiliating and he swore never to do it again. If he offended someone, it was the persons own fault for taking offense and doing something stupid that would warrant his disdain. Hermione's only real offense toward the Professor was being friends with Harry Potter and being an insufferable-know-it-all. And even that he couldn't hold against her because he had been the same way.

"Miss Granger, I….I…..."

Hermione turned in his arms so that she was semi-lying beneath him, hushing his stammering words with a gentle finger to his lips and looking into deep black eyes.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Professor. At least not to me. I understand now why you did what you had to do. I forgave you a long time ago I just didn't realize it till now."

Usually master of his emotions and facial expressions, Severus was not able to hide from her the shock he felt by her words; nor the softening that crossed his features. There was true sincerity in her beautiful brown eyes, and compassion, and acceptance that shook him to his very core. The witch in his embrace was neither repulsed by his touch nor afraid of it; she seemed to draw comfort from him. He had saved her life; he had saved her from a fate worse than death; he had saved her from the Dark Lord and risked his own life to do so. And she appreciated him for it—she forgave him for it.

Instinctively, he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, as her diminutive hand cupped his cheek.

Before another word could be spoken by either of them, Hermione pressed her lips to his in a gentle, chaste kiss.

He stared at her in wonder, when their lips parted. Never in his life had a woman kissed him with such tenderness. Lily had kissed his cheek a few times, more platonically the way a sister might kiss her brother. His mother was never overly affectionate and the woman he encountered in his Death Eater circle had no interest in a Half-blood like him.

"What was that for?"

"It's my way of saying thank you," she replied with a soft smile. "This"—pressing her lips to his once more—"is for saving my life. And this is for keeping the Death Eaters off our trail. And this is for breaking into Gringotts to steal a horcrux. And this is for your own pleasure," her last kiss lingering longer than the rest.

His own pleasure?! What the bloody hell did that mean?!

Severus could hardly help himself as he regarded the witch in his arms: her bright eyes burning with—he could hardly believe it—desire; her body warm and alluring; her lips so damned kissable. Tentatively he pressed his lips to hers. The taste and sensation was so sweet. He truly had very little experience kissing girls—woman in general—so he mostly went with his gut and what felt right.

Technically, the whole situation felt wrong. For starters, he had bathed her without her knowledge, permission, and not in the presence of a chaperone. Second, a girl barely eighteen (young enough to be his daughter) was in his bed; thirdly he was kissing said girl who happened to be a former student and would still be a student if the Dark Lord's control of the Ministry hadn't banned her from attending Hogwarts; and last but not least, he liked it. He liked the way her fingers raked his back beneath his t-shirt. He liked the way she pressed her body against his and how she seemed to mold perfectly against him. He liked the way she wrapped her leg around his hip. He liked the way she responded to his touch. He liked the way she moaned and seemed to yearn for more. Without words, the Granger swat was conveying that she wanted him as no other woman had ever wanted him before. It was a heady and startling feeling all at once.

Hermione opened her mouth to permit the Professor entry and the kiss deepened. She savored every touch, every caress, every moan. The feel of his silky, not greasy, hair; the breadth of his shoulders; his breath on her skin; his soft lips pressed firmly against hers—it all made her body hum.

The longer he kissed her, the more his body cried out for more, especially below the waistband of his pajama bottoms. But he could not bring himself to cross that line. Kissing Miss Granger was one thing. Shagging her was unconscionable.

However, she didn't seem to think so. "Touch me!" she breathed against his lips. Sensing his hesitancy, Hermione placed his hand on her bare thigh, then guided it up underneath the, now very wrinkled, white shirt he had loaned to her until it came to a stop on her breast. Her nipples instantly responded to his touch, hardening beneath the pad of his thumb as he brushed over it. A gasp escaped her lips as he did so.

Merlin! She felt so good.

With a flick of his wrist and a burst of wandless magic, all of the buttons down the front of the shirt opened to reveal the witch's firm, curvaceous, and translucently fair body. Snape's eyes burned with hunger as he gazed on her beautiful form. He wanted her. And it was obvious that—Merlin knows why—she wanted him too. If today was in fact the last day of his miserable existence, he was going to relish what little pleasure he could in the moment.

He captured her lips in a searing kiss once more before moving across her jaw, down her throat, to her chest in a trail of liquid fire. Hermione's back arched in response, her head thrown back into the pillows as she tangled her fingers in his ebony hair holding him tightly against her breast.

Is this really happening? she wondered as she reveled in the erotic feelings he was eliciting within her body.

To be clear, Hermione was not a loose young woman. She didn't go around sleeping with just anybody. Ron had been her first. He managed to talk her into it saying that they would most likely be dead soon so what was the point in waiting? Reluctantly she relented, hoping that it would make them stronger. It didn't. It had been awkward and somewhat unenjoyable and it made Ron all the more jealous and suspicious of her relationship with Harry. Then he left that night and Hermione didn't know what to think.

The professor, however, was different from the man she thought she knew. He was different from the man Harry and Ron tried to convince her he was. They would never believe her if she told them that Professor Snape was good, and caring, and funny. That he actually possessed a sense of humor. That he had been protecting them all along. That he had so tenderly taken care of her broken body after Malfoy Manor. That he was actually apologetic for all the mean things he had said and humiliation he had subjected her to over the years. Deep down, Severus Snape was just like any other human being. He wanted to be loved but had never known it. He wanted acceptance and had only managed to find it in all the wrong places. And he wanted to be free to live his life the way he wanted.

Knowing these things about him made Hermione feel a sense of kinship, a compassionate regard, trust and affection. She felt he deserved to know how she felt about him—to know that she cared. And they both deserved to know a bit of passion before they died.

Severus ached for release; to be buried within her; to consume her; to hear her cry his name. Again she seemed to sense his thoughts and proceeded to awkwardly shimmy out of his white shirt before attacking his own clothes—first his t-shirt yanked from over his head, then his flannel pajama bottoms and pants were hastily discarded on the floor.

For the briefest second, with his naked body pressed against hers, he debated whether or not he should stop now before it was too late. That was until the witch rolled him onto his back and straddled his hips. Feeling her warmness pressed against his hard member, he lost all competent thought—from here on out it was strictly animal instinct.

Hermione marveled at the beautifulness of the professor's pale, lean and finely contoured body. Scars marked his chest and back—the evidence of the brutal life he had known—yet he was strong and surprisingly tender. She wanted him; she wanted to share this brief glimpse of heavenly bliss before they were plunged into the fire of battle; she wanted to make him feel loved.

His endless black eyes watched her every move; her every look, as her amber eyes roamed his body. His skin tingled beneath her hands as she stroked his chest all the way down to between their bodies. He watched as she took hold of his member in her demure hand and guided it to her entrance. Her eyes met his once more, then with a simple downward motion of her body, he was inside her.

The wizard gasped, his eyes widening as the warmth from her body engulfed him. She moaned and he nearly lost control seeing the desire in her heavy lidded gaze.

With a growl he sat up, wrapping his arms around her, and buried his face in her breasts. Hermione moaned again when he thrust into her. Her head fell back as she ground her hips against him and cried out in pleasure.

Snape's control snapped. He rocked harder in unison with her.

Finally it seemed as though every muscle in her body tensed and she came with a harsh cry. It was music to his ears.

With a wicked smile, he tightened his grip around her waist and rolled over. Now he had the leverage and balance he needed to thrust into her with the gusto his body desired.

Hermione lay back, still riding the euphoric wave of her orgasm, loving every pleasurable sensation the professor evoked on her person. Sweet Merlin, if her friends only knew what she was doing.

Severus watched in wonder as the Gryffindor chit's expression became one of intense pleasure, bordering on pain, as she came again while he continued to thrust into her. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was as beautiful as a dream.

With several final thrusts, his orgasm tore through his body and spilled into her, pushing her over for the edge for a third time with his name on her lips.

He gasped and buried his face into the nape of her neck as he shuddered from pleasure. Never, not once in his whole thirty-eight years, had anyone let alone a woman said his name as Miss Hermione Granger had. The comprehension that it was her who had made such sweet music to his ears, boggled his mind. The Gryffindor Princess and the Bat of the Dungeons. Who knew she would be the source of the most amazing sex of his entire life? He sure as hell didn't.

….

Late September 2009, Manchester:

Hermione stepped onto the train platform at Manchester's Piccadilly Station. It would have been much faster to have apparated from London to her destination, rather than spend 2 hours on the train, but the witch wanted time to prepare herself mentally for this undertaking. If her suspicions were correct, she may very well find the long lost Severus Snape in the vicinity. Seeing him again after all these years required careful planning on her part, she told herself. In truth, Miss Granger was simply stalling for time.

Due to prior extensive research, she knew the bakery was north-west from the train station not far from the Manchester Central Library. How fitting, she thought. Not that Severus Snape was the only man she knew who loved books as much as she did; it just served as an additional tally convincing her she was on the right trail.

The shop itself was a quaint little place, the name painted above the door in large purple and gold letters. In the large window was a display of lovely and delicious looking convections. Inside, Hermione could see patrons seated at the small round tables enjoying a cup of tea with their pastries. It was all so picturesque it screamed of being very anti-Snape. What better place to hide than in plain sight?

A bell chimed when she walked through the door and a young woman behind the counter greeted her.

"What can I get for you, Miss?" she asked in a thick northern accent.

Hermione smiled. "What would you suggest? I am on a day trip from London and have heard wonderful things about this place."

The young woman excitedly walked up and down the glass counter pointing out favorites. With so many choices before her, the witch hardly knew which on to try—they all sounded amazing—but in the end she settled on the apple Danish. It tasted heavenly.

"This is delicious! Did you make this?"

The young woman shook her head. "The Danishes are the owner's specialty. He won't let anyone else make them."

"Is the owner here?"

"No, Miss. He comes in early in the morning to start the dough and make the Danishes then leaves."

Hermione's heart fell in disappointment. "Will he be back later today? I'd really like to meet him and congratulate him on such a marvelous Danish."

"I don't think so, Miss. But I'm happy to pass on your compliments."

Epic fail! Purchasing another Danish to take Toby, Hermione left the shop and returned to London.

…

"So what comes next, mum? The battle?"

"That's right. Your dad and I spent most of the day anxiously waiting for Harry to make his move. As soon as he was discovered in the castle, we knew Voldemort would not be far behind with his full army of Death Eaters. The wards around the castle were fortified; the hospital wing was stocked with all manner of healing potions, then all we could do was wait…"

May 1998, Hogwarts:

The morning that had dawned bright and sunny morphed into a very gloomy and stormy afternoon. Both Hermione and Snape agreed that the change in weather was a reflection of the mood in the air and events to come. Sure enough, just after dark the alarm sounded in Hogsmeade that Potter was in the village.

"And so it begins," Severus said, standing from his chair. "I will summon the students to the Great Hall in thirty-minutes. That should give Potter plenty of time to take one of the secret passages from Hogsmeade to the castle."

The witch at his side nodded.

"You had best get to the Room of Requirement, Miss Granger. No doubt your Gryffindor comrades will be thrilled to see you."

"Yes, Sir," she whispered. "I guess I thought I would be better prepared for this night but now that it's here, I find I am terrified."

The wizard took the young woman into his arms. "It is good to be scared, Hermione. It means you still have something to lose."

She looked up at him when he used her given name.

"Whatever happens, Severus, I hope you know I will never forget this as long as I live. And I hope you are wrong about your fate."

"I'm not, but thank you."

He pressed his lips to hers once more, then tapping the top of her head with his wand, he watched her disappear from his view. The Disallusionment spell flowed from her head to her toes like a bucket of water being poured slowly over her head.

"May the Force be with you, Severus."

"And with you," he smirked.

His office door opened and closed. She was gone.

"Hermione! How did you get here? Where's Harry?"

She didn't have a chance to answer for at that moment Neville appeared through the hole hidden behind the portrait on the wall with Harry and Ron.

She rushed forward and hugged them.

"Thank Merlin you are all right," Harry said, handing her her beaded bag. "I didn't want to trust him but you were right; it's in there and I know where one more is."

"Where?"

"Here, in the place where all things are hidden."

"So, what's the plan Harry?" Neville asked from over Hermione's shoulder.

"You-Know-Who is coming with his army," Harry replied, looking into the faces of all his DA friends.

"This is it then?" Seamus asked solemnly.

Harry nodded. "The last thing I want in the world is for any more people to die because of me, but I hope you will still fight with me."

"Of course we will, Harry," came the airy reply of Luna. "You're our friend and we are yours to the end."

Hermione could have hugged the blonde witch.

Suddenly Ginny appeared through the crowd. "Snape knows Harry's been spotted in Hogsmeade. He has summoned all of the students to the Great Hall."

…

Disguised in some borrowed school robes, the Golden Trio along with the other members of the DA fell in line with the other students and made their way down to the Great Hall.

As soon as Snape was gone, Hermione, Harry and Ron returned to the Room of Requirement, only this time it wasn't full of hammocks, but thousands upon thousands of knick-nacs. Broken items, stolen items, illegal items, all of them hidden and forgotten by the students who left them behind.

Harry led the way through the enormous stacks right to the cabinet where he had hidden his potions book last year. Sure enough, though the goblin bust had been knocked to the floor, the Diadem was found next to it in a pile of rubbish.

"This is it!" he exclaimed, showing his friends the beautiful headpiece.

Hermione reached into her beaded bag and retrieved the chalice. The sword, mysteriously, was gone.

"Harry the sword is gone!" she cried.

They each took turns rummaging in her bag and they even tried summoning the sword but it was no good; the sword was gone.

"You don't suppose it has returned to the Headmaster's Office, do you?"

"What do we do now?"

Harry didn't know.

2009:

"Where did the sword go, mum? I thought Dad gave it to them in the pub."

"He did. There were strange and ancient enchantments on the sword. It had a way of appearing and disappearing. Part of how it presented itself to a worthy Gryffindor."

"Was Uncle Harry not worthy? Is that what made it go away?"

"I don't know, love. We managed to figure something out in the end though."

"What?"

1998:

The three Gryffindors stood stumped together for several minutes. The success of their plan depended on that sword. Now, with two horcruxes in hand, they had no way to destroy them.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

They turned to see Draco and his two gorilla goons with their wands drawn.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I could ask you the same question, Granger? I thought you were supposed to be languishing in the dungeons," he sneered.

"My hero saved me. That was the plan all along. You'd know something about that wouldn't you, Malfoy?"

The Slytherin scrunched his brow in confusion.

"Come on, Draco. Don't be a prat. Do them and get it over with," Crabbe—or was it Goyle—hissed in the blonde wizard's ear.

Hermione could see right through Malfoy's arrogant façade. He didn't have the stomach to take a human life, unable to kill them as he was unable to kill Dumbledore.

It was Ron who cast the first hex, knocking one of the gorilla goons on his arse and out cold. This seemed to snap Draco out of his stupor and he fired back. A quick volley of curses and hexes flew between the two sets of teenagers, occasionally sending bits of rubbish flying. A green curse flew past Hermione's ear, missing her by inches, as Malfoy and Goyle made their retreat.

"THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND YOU WANKER!" Ron shouted, chasing after them and out of sight.

Three seconds later he came running back, screaming like a lunatic. "Goyle's set the whole bloody face on fire!"

He grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her after him as he ran for the entrance; Harry hot on their heels.

"It's Fiendfyre!" she shouted. Very dangerous, very Dark, and very difficult to control, the moron Slytherin had cast the cursed fire without knowing how to turn it off. In a matter of seconds, the room was ablaze.

Harry just happened upon several brooms and handed them to his companions. Up they sored over the flames. Heroic to the end, he even saved Malfoy who was trapped on top of a byre.

They tumbled to the floor once they reached the corridor. None of the Gryffindors paid any notice to the Slytherin who scurried off. Hermione pulled the horcruxes from her bag and tossed them to Harry, who chucked them into the flames. An earsplitting cry retched the air as Voldemort's soul fragments were destroyed with the thousands of other secrets hidden at Hogwarts. Only one more to go.

"It's the snake," Harry gasped. "She's the last one."

"Look inside him, Harry," Ron said, kneeling by his friend. "Just this once. Find out where he is. If we find him we find the snake and we can end this."

Hermione watched her friend sadly as he closed his eyes. She knew something he did not and she wasn't sure how she was going to tell him.

"He's in the Shrieking Shack. Lucius Malfoy has just been sent to find Snape."

Together they ran through the castle, the carnage and destruction of battle splayed everywhere. Bodies, friend and foe, littered the corridors. Duels, shouts, screams and flashes of light came from everywhere. But the three Gryffindor's did not stop to mourn or to help—they were on a mission that would hopefully end this devastation.

They ran across the grounds to the Womping Willow. They ran down the tunnel. They ran until they came to the opening.

*The following segment is in J.K Rowling's brilliant words*

And then he heard voices coming from the room directly ahead of them, only slightly muffled by the fact that the opening at the end of the tunnel had been blocked up by what looked like an old crate. Hardly daring to breath, Harry edged right up to the opening and peered through the tiny gap left between crate and wall.

The rom beyond was dimly lit, but he could see Nagini, swirling and coiling like a serpent under water, safe in her enchanted, starry sphere, which floated supported in midair. He could see the edge of the table, and a long-fingered white hand toying with a wand. Then Snape spoke, and Harry's heart lurched: Snape was inches away from where he crouched, hidden.

"…my Lord, their resistance is crumbling—"

"—and it is doing so without your help," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there…almost."

"Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."

Snape strode past the gap, and Harry drew back a little, keeping his eyes fixed upon Nagini, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the protection surrounding her, but he could not think of anything. One failed attempt, and he would give away his position…

Voldemort stood up. Harry could see him now, see the red eyes, the flattened, serpentine face, the pallor of him gleaming slightly in the semidarkness.

"I have a problem, Severus," said Voldemort softly.

"My Lord?" said Snape.

Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton.

"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?"

In the silence Harry imagined he could hear the snake hissing slightly as it coiled and uncoiled—or was it Voldemort's sibilant sigh lingering on the air?

"My—my Lord?" said Snape blankly. "I do not understand. You—you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No," said Voldemort. "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand…no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago."

Voldemort's tone was musing, calm, but Harry's scar had begun to throb and pulse: Pain was building in his forehead, and he could feel that controlled sense of fury building inside Voldemort.

"No difference," said Voldemort again.

Snape did not speak. Harry could not see his face: He wondered whether Snape sensed danger, was trying to find the right words to reassure his master.

Voldemort started to move around the room: Harry lost sight of him for seconds as he prowled, speaking in that same measured voice, while the pain and fury mounted in Harry.

"I have thought long and hard, Severus…Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?"

And for a moment Harry saw Snape's profile: His eyes were fixed upon the coiling snake in its enchanted cage.

"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."

"You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."

"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than myself—"

"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends—the more, the better—but do not kill him.

"But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been valuable to me. Very valuable."

"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But—let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can—"

"I have told you, no!" said Voldemort, and Harry caught the glint of red in his eyes as he turned again, and the swishing of his cloak was like slithering of a snake, and he felt Voldemort's impatience in his burning scar. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"

"My Lord there can be no question, surely—"

"—but there is a question, Severus. There is."

Voldemort halted, and Harry could see him plainly again as he slid the Elder wand through his white fingers, staring at Snape.

"Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"

"I—I cannot answer that, my Lord."

"Can't you?"

The stab of rage felt like a spike driven through Harry's head: He forced his own fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out in pain. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he was Voldemort, looking into Snape's pale face.

"My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twain cores, told me to take another's wand. I did so, but Lucius's wand shattered upon meeting Potter's.

"I—I have no explanation, my Lord."

Snape was not looking at Voldemort now. His dark eyes were still fixed upon the coiling serpent in the protective sphere.

"I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."

And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape's face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

My Lord—let me go to the boy—"

"All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner…and I thing I have the answer."

Snape did not speak.

"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."

"My Lord—"

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."

"My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand.

"It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."

And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.

"Kill."

There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color if had left; it whitened as his black eyes whidened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor.

"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave this shack and take charge, with a wand that would now do his full bidding. He pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere.

Back in the tunnel and his own mind, Harry opened his eyes: He had drawn blood biting down on his knuckles in the effort not to shout out. Now he was looking through the tiny crack between crate and wall, watching a foot in a black boot trembling on the floor.

"Harry!" breathed Hermione behind him, but he had already pointed his wand at the crate blocking his view. It lifted an inch into the air and drifted sideways silently. As quickly as he could, pulled himself into the room.

He did not know why he was doing it, why he was approaching the dying man: He did not know what he felt as he saw Snape's white face, and the fingers trying to staunch the bloody wound at his neck. Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak and looked down upon the man he hated, whose widening black eyes found Harry as he tried to speak. Harry bent over him, and Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him close.

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

"Take…it…Take ….it"

Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed from his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Harry knew what it was, but he did not know what to do—

A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hands by Hermione. [She was knelt by his side trying to heal the professor's throat and pouring various potions down the man's throat, including one she found in his robes.] Harry lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no blood left in him, his grip on Harry's robes slackened.

"Look…..at….me…." he whispered.

The green eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and empty. The hand holding Harry thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. "I'm so sorry, Professor. I tried," she said with a staggered sob.

Late September 2009, London:

Hermione held her son to her chest as they both wept for the fallen Severus Snape.

"Why? Why would Voldemort just kill him?" Toby cried. "He called dad his friend. You don't just kill your friends, especially not like that!"

October 2009, Manchester:

The following Saturday, Hermione dropped Toby at Bill and Fleur's early, before apparating to Manchester. This time she didn't even bother stalling with the train. The more she spoke of Severus to their son, the more determined she became to find him. Toby wanted his father; he needed his father; and if by some minute chance his father was alive, Hermione was going to do everything within her power to see that they were reunited.

For the most part, the city was still asleep. Few cars and delivery trucks were on the road and even fewer pedestrians. Most of the shops were dark and locked behind their security grate. Yet from the front window, the witch could see a light on in the back part of the shop. It was now or never.

Walking around the block to the back side of the building, Hermione knocked firmly on the bakery's service entrance door. There was some muffled swearing before the door was flung open revealing the timeless tall and imposing figure of Severus Snape.

His hair was shorter, less greasy and peppered at the temples, his face had a healthy fullness to it—no longer sallow with sharp edges—he had gotten his teeth fixed and wasn't wearing his customary black robes. Still it was him nonetheless.

For a moment they just stared at each other until he leaned against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest.

"I must say, Miss Granger, for the brightest-witch-of-your-age, it certainly took you long enough to find me," her smirked.

He waved his arm, motioning for her to come in. Hermione was dumbfounded to see it was really him, standing before her very eyes. Once the door was closed, he returned to his work bench, kneading the large ball of pastry dough.

"You certainly didn't make it easy living as a muggle. As far as the magical world was concerned, you died that day in the Shrieking Shack and some horrible person stole your body."

"Tell me then, what was the tip off?"

It seemed in the last decade he managed to learn to speak without so much cynicism and disdain in his voice. She found it a welcome change.

"Your Will," she replied.

"Oh? And what would my will have to do with you? I left everything to Hogwarts."

"Yes you did, provided that no heir or living relative showed up."

"And?"

"You also failed to take into account the Missing Person's Law. Because your body was never found, you were not legally declared dead until last May."

Severus stopped kneading. "As I recall, there were three credible witnesses of my death."

"Yes, but our testimonies were considered hearsay."

"Complete bollocks!" he swore, resuming his kneading.

"That's what I thought but it's the way it goes. You were still 'buried' and honored as a hero with the rest of the fallen ten years ago."

"You still haven't said why you were involved in the execution of my Will? Have you been made Headmistress of Hogwarts?" he teased good naturedly.

Hermione gave him a look for his snide remark.

"No, I have not. I work for the DLME. Turns out the hefty endowment you made to our Alma Mater did not actually go to the school due to an impediment."

"What sort of impediment?"

"Your son."

Once again he stopped kneading and turned his intense gaze on her. There is the Severus Snape I know.

"My son?"

"Yes, Severus, you have a son. His name is Toby. You would be very proud of him."

The name Toby made Severus want to gag. There was no way in hell any son of his, if indeed he had a son, would be named Toby. He'd grow up to be such a ninny.

"And who is the mother making this ridiculous claim."

"I am. But it is not a ridiculous claim," she replied, pulling the boy's portrait from her purse and holding it out for the wizard to inspect. "You'll see he favors both of his parents in looks and intellect. He is at the top of his class."

Snape examined the picture shrewdly. With the exception of the nose—Hermione's button nose—the smiling boy in the picture was a spitting image of him as a child.

"But…we…we only…once," he gasped, all the blood draining from his face.

The witch moved around the work table and helped the baker into a chair.

"Yes, Severus. But once is all it takes."

"Please tell me that Weasley moron isn't raising my son," he said, gripping her wrist.

"No, he isn't. When I told Ron I was pregnant he wanted nothing to do with me. He's married to Lavender Brown and they are expecting their third baby in a couple of months."

The dark wizard rolled his eyes. "And you are unmarried, still?"

"Yes. I am the spinster. The jaded woman. A floozy according to Lavender. The unwed mother…"

"I get your point, Miss Granger. It was not my intention to offend you."

"I know. Unfortunately, it is Toby who suffers the most."

Snape's expression hardened. "What do you mean?"

"He's had to deal with a lot of ridicule for being the illegitimate son of two war hero's. Not so much in the muggle world but very much so in our world."

"People should mind their own damn business!"

She sat silently for several minutes while he contemplated the picture in his hand and the weight of the news. His shock was expected; his angry hardened expression was not.

"So what do you want from me; more money? Do you want me to buy your social acceptance? It's not enough that he inherited my fortune; you want me to buy off the Ministry like Malfoy used to do, is that it!?"

"No! Of course not," Hermione replied, rather dismayed at that he would think her capable of such conniving deceit. "I just wanted to know you are alive and since you are I wanted you to know you have a son."

Severus didn't seem to hear her.

"Right. And I am sure you had no intention of seducing me that night either. Nightmares my arse! You knew I was going to die—I told you I would—so you cooked a plan to get knocked up with my child so that you could have my fortune, didn't you?! You had no right to bare a son I never wanted in the first place!" he shouted.

Hermione stepped back as if he had struck her in the face. His words had struck her heart instead, causing stinging angry tears to well up in her eyes. How dare he accuse her of seducing him. How dare he accuse her of being a gold-digger.

"As I recall, at the time you seemed to enjoy yourself."

"Yes well, I am only a man after all. I never thought that you would use such a manipulative tactic against me, especially after saving your life. Serves me right for thinking I could trust a Gryffindor and a woman," he spat.

"YOU BASTARD!" she screamed. "I tried to save your life in the Shrieking Shack! I went back for your body to see that it got a proper burial! I mourned your death! And I told my son what a good, honorable, brave and wickedly smart his father was! I named my son for his father because I respected him! Goes to show how wrong I was. You are still the git you always have been!"

Gathering her cloak, Hermione stormed to the door.

"And for your information, I haven't touched one knut of that fortune of yours. That is Toby's and his alone. I make a respectable living for myself, thank you. And I don't care two sickles what society thinks. I am Hermione-Bloody-Granger, the brightest witch of my age, best friend of Harry Potter, and mother of Severus Tobias Snape Jr. I do no seek nor require society's approval to raise my son."

With that, she walked out the door and slammed it behind her.

…..

Severus stood in the doorway for several minute mulling over the fact that he had a son. Bloody hell he had a son! Was it really possible? The picture on his work bench was proof that is was. What difference did it make now? He wasn't dad quality.

The only two father figures in his life had been a violent drunk and a manipulative old coot—not exactly the best example for him to learn from. Besides, he had a life now. A muggle life. He had a successful business and a nice home and a decent circle of friends and he was dead in the magical world. Was he supposed to give all of that up to try his hand at being a terrible father? The nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something was missing in his life was beside the point.

"Come on, mum, you have to tell me the end of the story!"

Toby anxiously bounced in his bed while he impatiently waited for his mother to finish washing up after dinner. He didn't know that she was downstairs crying behind a Silencing Charm.

Visiting Severus, knowing he was alive all this time after spending years blaming herself for not saving him, had been very emotional for the witch. At the time all she could think about was telling him he had a son. Now after several days of reflection, she was royally pissed off and hurt; not for herself but for her son.

Toby had been very distraught the past few days after his mother described in detail for him just how his father had died. He had expressed anger towards Voldemort for killing his dad for no good reason other than to have power over the Elder wand. He also mourned the loss of never knowing what it would be like to have a dad like all of his friends. Technically he had his godfather but it wasn't quite the same thing.

Hermione hated seeing him have to suffer so.

"I'm almost done, dear. I'll be up in a minute," she called.

Severus stood just beyond the garden gate of the London town house, hidden by the shadows of evening and a heavy autumn downpour. He was watching the figures in the windows. The witch, with curly brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, was standing at the back kitchen window washing dishes. Even with all the rain-splatter running down the glass, he could see that she was crying; hard.

Upstairs, a light switched on and a little boy with dark, slick hair appeared at a window; his dark eyes wide as he looked out at the storm. His son in the flesh.

The man in the shadows could just barely make out the muffled call the boy made to his mother down stairs and her reply.

Snape contemplated the scene for several long minutes. The home was nice and the boy seemed really happy. His mother loved him, fed him well and told him bedtime stories; quite the contrast to the life he had known as a child.

He couldn't understand why he had become so unhinged by the revelation he had a son and that Miss Granger was his mother. He should have remembered to consider himself lucky that she was not Bellatrix LeStrange or some other vile woman that repulsed him. Instead she was one of the most compassionate, brilliant, forgiving and loving woman he had ever met. And he had not met many with such attributes.

When she had walked into his shop, he had actually been very pleased to see her, remembering with fondness the last time he saw her. In his indifferent opinion, she looked well—more grown up and more of lovely in her own way.

And then she laid the bombshell on him and what did he do? Ever the tosser, he accused the witch of having ulterior motives. To be fair, he had never known a woman in his life that did not have ulterior motives when it came to him, using him and manipulating him to their purposes with no genuine regard for him. Was it so shocking that he believed the same of Miss Granger? After all, it truly was unfathomable that she would voluntarily want to raise his child without some sort of compensation? Who would?

Yet there had been honest pain in her eyes when he accused her of such. And watching her now, it was obvious that she did not consider being the mother of his child a cumbersome burden. She loved Toby the way he knew Molly Weasley loved each of her children. Toby was Hermione's everything.

"You are a Grade A arsehole, Severus Snape," he said to himself, before turning away to make his journey back to the train station.

Taking several minutes to regain her composure, she climbed the stairs and tucked the boy in.

"Let's see, what came next?"

"Uncle Harry kills Voldemort."

"Yes, but first he reviewed the memories your dad gave him."

"What were the memories about?"

"About your Uncle Harry's mum, Lily. Turns out she and your dad were friends as children and during their years at Hogwarts but had a falling out during their fifth year. She married James Potter and had Harry; your dad became a Death Eater. Then due to a prophecy made about Harry being the Chosen One, Voldemort went after him, killing Lily and James. Your dad made a promise with Dumbledore that if he would protect Lily, your dad would become his spy. After Lily died, he swore to protect your Uncle Harry in her place. He also showed him the promise he made to Dumbledore to kill him when the time came. Up till then, Harry was convinced that your dad betrayed Dumbledore and the Order. Suddenly, he knew that it was Severus, your dad, who had protected us while we were on the run and that he had been on the right side all along."

"So he didn't hate dad anymore?"

Hermione smiled. "No he didn't."

May 1998, Hogwarts:

Hermione sat alone near the Weasley family in the Great Hall while they consoled each other over the loss of Fred. Remus and Tonks were laid out beside him, as were many others. The fighting had stopped for now, grief and mourning was left in its wake. Harry had mysteriously disappeared.

As she watched the family with red hair—so close, so loving, so sad together—she thought of another who lay alone and unmourned.

"Did nobody go to get dad?"

"I did, with Ron and Harry, but only after it was over. His body was gone; plenty of blood still on the floor, but no body. We guessed that some Death Eater came along and took it for some sick reason."

"Where's Harry?"

She looked up to see Ron standing before her.

"I don't know," she replied. "I'm sorry about Fred."

He thanked her for her sympathy with a nod, still to raw with grief to say anything about his brother that wouldn't cause him to burst into tears.

"Do you want to get out of here? See if we can find Harry?"

After running and fighting all night, Hermione didn't really feel like moving from her seat but for her friend she did. They walked away from the death in the Great Hall, passed the destruction of the entrance hall and up the stairs. Ron guessed the best place to start would be the Gryffindor Common Room to look for Harry. So they climbed.

Turns out he had been to the Headmaster's Office to use the Pensive. They ran into him on the stairs. He was very somber.

"What is it Harry? What is it you know?"

"There's a reason I can hear them, Hermione—the horcruxes. I think I've known for a while; and I think you have too."

"I'll go with you," she wept.

Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione. Kill the snake and then it's just him."

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in to a fierce hug.

"Uncle Harry was a horcrux?!"

"Yep. The night Voldemort killed the Potters and tried to kill Harry, he inadvertently made him into a horcrux."

"But it's gone now though, right mum?"

"Yes, dear. When Harry went into the Forbidden Forrest and Voldemort cast the killing curse, he unknowingly killed the portion of his soul within Harry."

"And Uncle Harry became the boy who lived twice!"

Hermione chuckled. "That's right. He gave us quite a scare there for minute, though. Hagrid was forced to carry him from the Forbidden Forest back to Hogwarts where Voldemort gave his triumphant monologue. We were heart broken."

"I bet Voldemort was pretty surprised to see Uncle Harry was still alive," Toby said with a brilliant smile.

"I think the best word to use would be furious. To Voldemort, Harry was his greatest threat and he simply would not die.

"Anyway, another skirmish ensued between the Light and the Death Eaters while Harry took on Voldemort. Neville killed the snake with the sword of Gryffindor that appeared to him in the sorting hat. Molly killed Bellatrix LeStrange; the Malfoy's surprisingly joined the fight against the Death Eaters and in the end Voldemort was dead. It was over, just like that."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. At least the fighting was over. Voldemort was dead. Now came the real work of moving on with our lives and rebuilding our society."

Late June 1998, London:

Funerals. Lots and lots of funerals. And then came the award ceremonies and the celebrations. Lots and lots of balls and parties that the Golden Trio were forced to attend. Ron was all too happy to relish in the lavish attention bestowed on him; Harry and Hermione, however, were smiling through their teeth by the end of it all. They just wanted to put everything about the war behind them and that included the celebrations and commendations.

First thing on her list, reestablish her relationship with Ron. Or at least define it. They had been doing stuff that couples do for that short while after he came back before her abduction, but they had never really defined their relationship. Hermione guessed it was something along the lines of "friends with benefits," but now that the war was over, they moved forward as an official committed couple.

Second, she made plans to journey to Australia to find her parents and restore their memories.

Thirdly, she prepared to return to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year, officially, and take her N.E.W.T.s. Ron and Harry thought she was mad, since the Ministry had bestowed an honorary exception to each of them for services during the war. Hermione still insisted that she complete her education the right way and not take any short-cuts just because she was now a war hero.

And then her plans fell to pot about eight weeks after the Battle at Hogwarts.

Hermione woke one morning exhausted and sick. At first she thought it was just a fluke, caused by all of the running around. By the third day of vomiting in the morning she became suspicious. By the fifth day she knew it wasn't a bug. Making some excuse about needing to run an errand, she apparated to muggle London (bad idea, because it churned her stomach and made her vomit again) and stepped into the nearest Chemist shop.

"Bugger!"

The tests didn't lie. One might be inaccurate but three was a stretch. She was pregnant plain and simple.

Her hand absently rested on her stomach as she continued to stare in shock at the little pink plus sign. A multitude of emotions flooded her nervous system all at once: anxiety, fear, excitement, anger. What would she do if it was Ron's? Things weren't going particularly well between then at the moment. What would she do if it wasn't?

…

"Harry, can I talk to you?"

The dark haired wizard sat up from where he was lounging on the sofa and waved his friend over to sit by him. From her expression he could tell she was very upset.

Hermione tried to get the words out but they wouldn't come; only tears and sobs. At a loss, Harry did the only thing he knew to do when he found himself alone with a crying girl. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, held her close and waited.

"Ron hasn't been upsetting you again, has he?"

She shook her head.

"I…I….I'm pregnant," she sobbed.

Harry didn't know what to say. Not that he knew much about such things, but he was pretty sure that babies were something most women got excited about. Remus hadn't been very thrilled when Tonks became pregnant with Teddy but he was the guy; Tonks was ecstatic. So if woman were usually excited, why was Hermione so distraught?

"And it makes you unhappy?" he asked thickly.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm happy but I am also sad."

"Does Ron know?"

"No. I know I must tell him but I don't know how?"

"I don't understand what you are so worried about, Hermione. Ron will be so excited! Does this mean you won't be going back to Hogwarts after all but staying here and getting married?"

She broke into another fit of heavy sobs. "The…baby…isn't…Ron's."

Harry really didn't know what to say.

In between bursts of sobs, she told him everything that had transpired between her and Professor Snape in addition to his simply nursing her back to health and letting her read selections from his private library.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Hermione. Despite him being a hero and all that, I still don't understand what would have ever possessed you to sleep with him," he shuddered.

"I hardly understand it myself. I just felt like it was the right thing to do. I never thought I would conceive a child from the encounter," she hiccupped.

"So I'm guessing you never told Ron about your little slumber party with Snape."

She nodded and blew her noise loudly in the tissue he offered her.

"I guess I just figured, he was dead and our little secret died with him. I didn't think it mattered that I didn't tell Ron. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? Except now I won't be able to hide it from him or anyone."

"But are you sure it's Snape's and not Ron's. I mean…I know you and he…."

"I wondered that myself. But magic is so much more ingenious than muggle science on this subject—the detection spell gives me the exact day of conception, May 2nd. Ron and I weren't together again until a few days after that," she blushed.

Harry blushed too. He knew they were together just like they knew he and Ginny were together but neither couple ever brought up the topic or asked about it. Some things were just too private to talk about, even with best friends.

"Maybe Ron won't mind, given that Snape turned out to be a good guy in the end," he said, giving her a hopeful smile even though he knew, that Hermione knew, that Ron would never be okay with raising Severus Snapes child as his own. He was far too jealous. And news like this was sure to make him despise their former professor even more than he did as a student and thus despise Hermione as well for her betrayal. The fact that Snape had saved their lives on countless occasions was obsolete.

"So, what can I do to help you, Hermione?"

She gave him a relieved teary smile and flung her arms around his neck. Hermione could always count on Harry. He really was her best friend and really would do anything for her, just as she would for him.

"Oh Harry, just knowing that you are still there for me makes me feel so much better. But I wanted to know if you wouldn't mind being this baby's godfather."

"Me?"

"I know you have Teddy, but I couldn't think of anyone who would be more willing to be the godparent of Severus Snape's child."

Harry went through a mental list of all of their mutual friends and sure enough, no one really stood out as someone who would want to be the godparent of Snape's child. He was just too disliked. Being declared a war hero helped alleviate some of the harbored resentments but only slightly. Most were not just a little bit sorry he was dead. In the end, Harry and Hermione were the only two individuals who genuinely mourned the loss of Severus Snape.

"Of course I'll do it, Hermione. I can't think of anything that would annoy him more than for James Potter's son to be a father figure to his son," he said with a cheeky grin, eliciting a soft chuckle from her. "And you can stay with me here at Grimmauld Place as long as you like. Don't worry about a thing. It's high time I took care of you for a change."

"I hadn't thought of that, but after I tell Ron I won't be able to stay at the Burrow."

"When are you going to tell him?"

"Tonight, I think. I don't know that I can go another day with this hanging over me."

"I'll be here when you get back," he replied with another reassuring hug.

"How could you do this to me? To us?!" the wizard raged. "I can't believe you slept with him! What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

"Ron please, try to understand," the witch pleaded.

"Understand? Understand?! I understand just fine, Hermione. You have ruined everything."

The bushy haired witch folded her arms across her chest with a huff. "I haven't ruined anything, Ronald. Things would have never worked out between us anyway."

Ron's face turned a deeper shade of red, his ears burning. "And why is that?"

"Because of this!" she replied waving her hand to indicate both of them. "Ron, you and I are not compatible romantically or any other way shape or form. You've said so yourself that I treat you more like a mother or bossy sister than as your girlfriend. We are always fighting. Things won't change if we get married."

"That still doesn't justify you screwing that prick behind my back!"

"YOU LEFT ME! Need I remind you that you accused me of doing the same thing with Harry? You left. I had a lot of time to think about you and me while you were gone. When you came back I wasn't sure what our next step should be. Then everything happened with the Snatchers and Malfoy Manor. It was he who saved me! I didn't intend to sleep with him; it just happened."

Hermione took several calming breaths and sat in Mr. Weasley's favorite weathered recliner.

"So it comes back to that, does it?" Ron asked bitterly. "You are never going to forgive me for that are you?"

"I don't blame you for leaving. It's just, we weren't together when Snape rescued me, so technically I didn't cheat on you."

Ron collapsed onto the sofa, his head in his hands. "But you slept with him, Hermione," he said, tears suddenly welling up in his eyes. "Did what we have mean so little to you that one little fight meant it was over? After so many years of friendship were you really so mad at me you had to sleep with him?"

The small witch hefted herself from her chair and sat beside her boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, placing a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Of course not, Ron. I wanted to give him something in return for saving my life. He saved me from a fate worse than death really; Bellatrix was about to hand me over to Greyback and Merlin knows what he would have done to me."

"You could have given him a Thank You card. I don't understand why you felt compelled to give him sex."

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't give him sex, Ronald."

He looked at her truly bewildered now.

"I gave a dying man forgiveness, acceptance and love; all of which he has been deprived of his entire life."

"He wasn't dying then."

"Oh but he was, Ron. Professor Snape had been dying for years. Working as a Death Eater had sucked the very life out of him. I could see it in his eyes. He knew he would not survive the battle. He knew it. There was no light; no love; no peace; no hope. I wanted to give him a glimmer of it before he died. I wanted him to know that not everyone hated him. I wanted him to know that I forgave him and that I appreciated his sacrifice."

The red haired wizard shook his head, still unable to comprehend.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, Ron. I wish you would but I understand why you won't. Hopefully, some day we will be able to pick up as friends again," she said patting his back, before making her way to the fireplace. With one last look at her once best friend who refused to make eye contact, Hermione Granger tossed a handful of floo powder into the embers and disappeared.

Harry and Ginny were both waiting for her with open arms when she returned to Grimmauld Place and they did not let her go until she said so.

October 2009, London:

"So that's why Uncle Ron hates me," Toby said quietly.

"Your Uncle Ron has no reason to hate you and if he makes you feel that way, I have no problem never going near him again!"

"But I'm the reason you broke up. If I hadn't come along he never would have known you slept with dad and you would be a Weasley and not a Granger with a Snape son."

Hermione's heart broke. Despite all of her best efforts to show her son just how loved and wanted he was, the negative comments and impressions from his adopted Aunts and Uncles left him feeling more unwanted than ever. A keen desire to curse Ron and Lavender with one of Ginny's famous tormenting curses became very appealing at that moment. Were Lavender not nine months pregnant, Hermione was sure nothing would keep her from flooing to their house and doing just that.

This is where having Severus close would have come in handy. She knew for a fact there was no way in hell Severus Snape would allow his son to be bullied by anyone, let alone former students and Weasley dunderheads. He would have cursed Ron and Lavender into the next century for spouting such malicious remarks. But Severus was not there to defend her or their son. He had made it clear that he had no desire to be either.

Hermione scooped her growing son into her lap the way she had when he was a small child, scared from a bad dream or upset from boys at school teasing him, and cradled him to her chest. He cried softly against her.

"Oh my love!" she sighed. "I don't know how to make you understand just how cherished you are. You are my everything. I would not trade one millisecond as your mother for anything. I love you. Your Uncle Harry loves you. Teddy and Victorie love you. Nana Molly loves you. Ron can say it all he wants, but you are not to blame for our break up. The childish temper tantrums he throws to this day are why we broke up. He has his virtues but he has his faults. We would have never made it as a couple, whether you were born or not."

They wept together, mother and son, and eventually fell into exhausted sleep.

…

Severus spent many a sleepless night lying in bed contemplating his meeting with Hermione at the bakery and what he saw that night standing in the rain.

….

It was some time before Toby asked his mother to finish her story. Several weeks in fact. But no matter what she said he knew how the story ended—it was just him and her, together on their own. Frankly, there was no better mother in the world, not even Nana Molly, and he knew it. She devoted her every waking moment to his happiness and he loved her for it. He just wished that people wouldn't judge her so harshly for bravely facing the world as a single mother alone. And he began to wish he had never been born to be such a burden to her.

Fall Term 1998, Hogwarts:

After the final break up with Ron, Hermione wrote a letter to the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall explaining her situation and her need to complete her education by the Christmas Hols during the upcoming term.

Ever a favorite of Minerva McGonagall, she warned Hermione of the awful social persecution she faced by returning to school pregnant. Honestly, the Headmistress did not want the girl to set a bad example for the other students or to appear as though she condoned such action. But she was compelled by her affection for the girl and by the fact that it was Severus Snape's child (he had been one of her other favorites for many years) to make an exception.

It was perhaps fortunate that the student robes did a masterful job hiding her delicate condition from the student body for the first couple of months. Only Ginny and Luna knew and they had been as nonjudgmental as Harry. Still the robes could only do so much. By Halloween, she had popped and no measure of baggy robes or glamour spell could conceal the fact that Hermione Granger had a bun in the oven.

Certain students took it upon themselves to mock her condition at every possible opportunity. Hermione may have borne it with patience and grace, knowing she asked for it when she returned to Hogwarts, but Ginny and Luna were not so angelic to turn the other cheek. They appointed themselves Hermione's bodyguards and if a fellow student made a snide comment or even dared insult their friend, Ginny made sure to send them running to the infirmary with her famous Bat-Bogy Hex. Luna was a tad more creative—Madam Pomfrey had been completely stumped when a seventh year Slytherin came into the infirmary with a moss and fungus covered tree stump for a head. The real shocker had been that Madam Pomfrey had never seen a hex like it and gave Luna a special award for ingenuity. Soon enough people got the idea that it was best not to mess with the Gryffindor Know-It-All or her spawn or her friends.

As the end of term neared and with it the Christmas Holidays, the expectant witch threw herself most vigorously into studying for her N.E.W.T exams. Luna and Ginny made sure she took time to eat, and sleep and bathe and even take an occasional stroll about the castle—"It's good for the baby"—rather than let her loose herself under a mountain of books.

A week before the Hols, she sat for the exams. The Ministry proctor eyed Hermione disapprovingly as she waddled into the appointed classroom every day and took her seat at the single desk. It did not help the proctor's mood that the young witch often had to pause her progress on the exam to make a hurried trip to the loo. Hermione, however, paid no mind to the witches and wizards who supervised her. They could judge her all they liked but in the end her essays were still perfect and her execution flawless. (Minerva confided to her afterwards that she wouldn't be surprised if her favorite received an Outstanding in all her N.E. .)

It was with a measure of sadness that Hermione packed her trunk to depart Hogwarts for the very last time. Of course she would be back for alumni parties and to supervise her child's education and to simply visit old friends, but she would never return as a student. All of her fond memories and feelings of the castle were being packed into her trunk and walking out the front door with her. With tears in her eyes, she hugged each of her professors, thanking them profusely for being such wonderful teachers, and made her way to Hogsmeade Station, with faithful Ginny and Luna at her sides. As the train moved through the snow covered countryside of Scotland, she watched the castle that had been her magical home disappear in the distance. One chapter of her life had closed and another was about to begin very shortly.

Ginny insisted that since she would be at school when the baby arrived that she must help Hermione decorate the nursery at Grimmald Place and throw her a baby shower before the holidays were over. Harry happily helped as did Mrs. Weasley.

Originally, the Weasley matriarch's heart had been broken to learn that Ron and Hermione had broken up because she was carrying "Snape's bastard child," as Ron so eloquently put it. That did not stop her from cursing her son rather severely for language and for speaking of Severus and Hermione in such a way. It was several weeks before he could sit in a chair.

For Molly Weasley, she had always dreamed that dear Hermione and little Ronikins would one day get married and have little red haired grandchildren for her to spoil. She did not take the shattering of such dreams well. But after fuming about it for several days and ranting to her patient husband about Hermione's easy virtue that no one believed she had, she was brought to the realization that poor Hermione had no one to call on for motherly support and if a girl ever needed her mother, it was when she was going to have a baby.

Unfortunately, the Grangers were still in Australia living as Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Bringing them back now to have their daughter explain that she altered their memories in the first place, that she had fought in a war, conceived an illegitimate child with one of her professors and that said professor was in fact dead would have been too much information to take in all at once. Hermione decided to spare them the inevitable nervous breakdowns they were sure to have and let them continue in their happy, ignorant lives. Thus Mrs. Weasley graciously stepped in as surrogate mother to guide the young witch along.

"So, my dear, have you decided on any names for the baby?" Mrs. Weasley asked as they organized the gifts from the baby shower in the nursery.

"I think so. I have this feeling that it is a boy so I haven't even bothered with girl names."

"I remember feeling that too. By the time Ginny came along I knew for certain she was going to be a girl because she felt so different from all of my boys. Although, now that I think about it, for a while I thought Percy was going to be a girl—he felt different from his older brothers too," Mrs. Weasley said giggling.

Hermione snickered as well. "I think I have pretty much settled on naming him for his father. Luna said this world could use more men like Severus Snape."

"And she is very right. He wasn't the most pleasant man but I have never known a braver one, save Harry perhaps."

Christmas this year was perhaps the dreariest it had ever been. Even more so than the Christmas they spent visiting Mr. Weasley in hospital during fifth year. And it was all Ron's fault.

It started out well. Hermione woke in her room to find a generous pile of gifts at the foot of her bed. Harry had burst in with his own pile of gifts and a breakfast tray. Over toast and orange juice they opened their gifts together.

Hermione received mostly gifts for the baby, including a gold and green knitted jumper with an interwoven S and G on the front from Mrs. Weasley. Harry and Ginny made a Babysitting Coupon Book and bestowed a year membership to the best spa in London—"We figured you would need a break every once in a while." Insufferable hormones caused her to burst into tears.

To break with tradition, Harry insisted on hosting Christmas dinner, gifting Mrs. Weasley with a night off. Kreacher and the new house elves had trimmed Grimmauld Place in Yule spender and the house filled with the rich aromas of the feast they were preparing in the basement kitchen.

Ginny came over in the afternoon to help Hermione do her hair and dress for the evening festivities. At this stage in her pregnancy, nothing really looked very flattering on her odd shaped figure, but Ginny managed to work wonders and for the first time in weeks, Hermione felt truly beautiful. Harry himself was aghast when he stepped into the room to announce that the guests were starting to arrive.

"You look even more stunning than you did at the Yule Ball!" he said, giving his friend a hug.

"Don't make her cry or you will ruin her make-up!" Ginny chided.

The three friends laughed before heading downstairs.

All joy previously felt throughout the day vanished when Ron walked through the door with Lavender Brown on his arm. Together, they eyed Hermione's round stomach with distain before ducking into the library to join the other guests.

"If either of them make one snide comment, I am going to curse his bollocks off and give her an incurable rash on her you-know-what," Ginny threatened.

"I'll help you," Harry agreed. Ron may be his best mate but so was Hermione, and he had been less than pleased with Ron's treatment towards her since their break up.

At every turn, Ron and Lavender seemed intent on rubbing their relationship in Hermione's face with excessive groping and PDA and frequent references to her single-motherness. It was perhaps slightly comforting that by the end of the evening, they had managed to turn everyone against them: Bill and Fleur, Mr and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Andromeda Tonks, George, Angelina, Luna, Mr. Lovegood, Harry, and Ginny were all ready to hex the revolting pair into the next century. Percy seemed to be the only one indifferent to the whole thing.

"Did anyone actually hex them?" Toby asked.

An evil grin spread across his mother's face. "Oh yes, my love. Turns out the Healers at St. Mongo's had never seen so many diverse hexes, jinxes and curses inflicted on just one person, let alone two."

The boy mirrored his mother's grin. "Good. I just wish someone would still hex them."

"Every once in a while a jinx or hex will go astray and we write it off as accidental magic from one of the children," Hermione replied.

February 1999, London:

February dawned much sooner than anyone expected, most of all Hermione. Reading every book ever written about pregnancy, birth and parenting still did not prepare her for it.

No one ever could prepare her for what happened when she saw the baby in her arms—his tiny little head covered in dark hair, and tiny little hands and tiny little feet—knowing that he was her job now. No one ever could prepare her for the love, and the fear. No one ever could prepare her for the love the people she loves felt for him.

"Oh Hermione, he's beautiful. Were Professor Snape still alive he would be in your debt for eradicating that awful nose from his gene pool," Ginny teased.

The new mother gave her friend a tired smile.

"You don't plan to dress him in black all the time do you? I always thought Professor Snape would have looked rather nice in blue—compliment his eyes and all that," Harry joked.

"Yes, but I find the mental image of Snape sporting a set of Dumbledore's blue robes with stars on it slightly disturbing. Maybe the lavender ones would be a better choice," said George.

"I don't think I will ever forget Neville's boggart: Snape dressed in Augusta Longbottom's clothes, complete with vulture hat," replied Harry.

Everyone gathered around Hermione's hospital bed laughed.

"But since he is a Snape, Angelina and I thought he would need something special to imitate his father," George said, reaching into his pocket. Turning his back on the group momentarily, when he turned around, he held up a baby outfit. But not just any baby outfit. It was an exact miniature replica of Professor Snape's infamous black robes, complete with buttons and billowing cloak.

"Oh George, it's wonderful!" Ginny exclaimed, laying the garment over the swaddled babe in his mother's arms so they all could admire his resemblance to his father.

"Perfect!" Harry and George agreed.

October 2009, London:

"Do you still have that outfit, Mum?"

Hermione nodded. "It's buried in the store room with your old baby things. Why?"

"I think I just figured out who I want to dress up as for Halloween," he replied with a smile.

"I'm pretty sure we can arrange that."

Severus Snape's mouth quirked into a slight smile as he watched the children run about the school playground in their various costumes. One child in particular was his reason for smiling. Among the goblins, and witches, and robots, and fairies, was a young boy dressed in tailored black robes and a cloak that billowed behind him as he chased his playmates.

He felt like such a creepy stocker, watching children like this, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to see his son.

"You could be arrested for loitering like that."

Snape didn't even bother to turn—he knew the voice speaking to him as well as he knew his own.

"It's a public street, Potter. I'm not doing anything wrong."

"True, but your continued appearance on this corner has parents concerned."

The Auror stepped from the bushes where he had been hiding and stood by his former professor.

"Does Hermione know you are here?"

Snape shook his head.

"But she knows you are alive?"

He nodded. "She always ways the brightest witch."

They stood in silence for several minutes watching the children line up with their classes and file back into the school.

"How did you know I was alive, Potter?"

"I didn't."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are; checking on Toby. Hermione told me he has been having a rough time lately."

"That doesn't seem to be the case."

"I'm afraid it has nothing to do with school. A few weeks ago he overheard some talk between Lavender and Fleur. Lav called him an accident. Since then he has been feeling pretty low."

"Technically he was an accident. I never intended to father any children, ever."

"I know. But you did."

"I did. And now I don't know what I am supposed to do about it."

Several wisecracks came to Harry's mind about the brilliant Professor Snape not knowing everything, but he chose to hold his tongue.

"He's really a great kid; you'd be proud of him."

"So I've been told."

"Ginny and I are having a party tonight, Professor, with costumes and games. You are welcome to come if you'd like a chance to meet him."

"I'm supposed to be dead, Potter. A party doesn't exactly maintain that anonymity."

"I meant to imply you could come in disguise. And use a fake name."

"Thank you, but no."

"If you change your mind or ever need anything, I'm at Grimmauld Place. Good day, Professor."

With that, Harry apparated away. Severus was forced to walk the several blocks to the train station. Not using magic really had its disadvantages.

Turns out, no one at Toby's muggle primary school got the joke of who he was pretending to be. At Harry and Ginny's Halloween Party that night, however, everyone was mesmerized by the resemblance and the found it very funny.

He had practiced his sneer for over a week, intently studying photographs of his father in old newspaper clippings, while his mother transfigured his old outfit to fit him. She also cast a charm to grow out his hair to match the length Severus used to sport and transfigured a replica wand.

"You look just like him, mate!" Harry beamed, ushering the professor – look – alike into the drawing room where everyone else was gathered. They were all too delighted to see him, declaring his costume the best of the night.

Hermione, dressed as a Grecian goddess, watched fondly from the wings as Harry, dressed as Thing 1 from Dr. Seuss, guided mini-Snape about the room. George brandished his pirate sword in a mock duel with Toby, who waved his wand to deflect every blow. Ginny, Thing 2, was sitting with Luna, a giant bumblebee, and Angelina who was dressed as a pirate wench. Mr and Mrs. Weasley were dressed as a socket and plug. Hermione guessed they had no idea how suggestive the costumes were. Fleur and Bill were dressed as Peter Pan and Wendy, while Victorie ran around with her cousins as Tinkerbell. Ron and Lavender with their children Philomena, Clifford and newborn Wilfred (stupid names) obviously didn't understand the concept of a muggle costume party and came as they were. They seemed less than pleased to be so singled out.

As much as she enjoyed seeing the pair who had caused her son so much heartache in recent weeks made uncomfortable, it pained her that she felt that way. Ron had been one of her best friends growing up and it saddened her that they no longer were.

"You look lovely tonight, Lavender," she said sincerely. "How are you feeling?" Perhaps if she was nice to them, they would extend the same courtesy.

WRONG!

"Not nearly as well as you it seems. But I suppose with just the one child you have ample time to rest and spend on creating frilly costumes," the blonde witch spat.

"I suppose it is fortunate that the father of your children is alive and well to give you more children," Hermione replied coolly then left the room.

What infuriated her most was that her son's father was alive; he just refused to come out of hiding and assume his role as father. All that bunk about him having a new life he couldn't give up was a cover and for the first time in the seventeen years she had known him, Hermione thought Severus Snape Sr. was a coward.

"Hermione, you okay?"

The brunette goddess gave her friend an exasperated look and nodded her head.

"I saw you talking to Ron and Lav. I'm guessing they were charming as always?"

Again she nodded. Ginny didn't have to say anything more about it. There was nothing to say. Her older brother and sister-in-law's antics really were tiresome. If they weren't family, she was sure she would hate them.

"The boys wanted to know if they could have a sleep over tonight. I told them I would check with you first."

Hermione agreed and after kissing her son goodbye, she left the party early.

…...

Severus, disguised as the phantom from Phantom of the Opera, paced for hours in front of Number 12 Grimmauld Place debating whether or not he should go in and the possibility that he would be recognized. A white mask covered most of his face and given that most people in the house believed him dead for ten years, it was unlikely that they would immediately recognize him. However, there were already two people in the house who knew for sure that he was alive. Dare he risk more?

No. His soul purpose in being there was not to reveal himself to former students and Order members but to meet his son. Still a very private man, his first instinct should have been to arrange a meeting that could be carried out in private. Then again, after how he had spoken to Hermione, it was doubtful she would ever agree to a meeting.

The phantom deduced there was only one way to find out and apparated to another familiar residential area of London. On the front step of the town home, he waited.

It was not long before she appeared, alone.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said, standing out of her way.

Hermione was not in the mood to deal with the ill-tempered man. "Professor," she replied curtly as she walked passed him to the front door.

She at least did not slam the door in his face which was no less than he deserved.

"What can I do for you, Professor?" she asked, leading him into the front sitting room.

"I came to meet my son."

"Did you? I was under the impression after our last meeting that you had no intention of acknowledging him as yours?"

He deserved that too. With a sigh, Severus made himself comfortable, removing the mask and heavy cloak, and settled in on the sofa for what was sure to be a long and intense conversation.

"Miss Granger, please. I spoke hastily at our last meeting and I apologize. Can we at least talk about this calmly as adults?"

Hermione's rigid stance relaxed only slightly. "Would you care for a drink, Sir?"

He inclined his head and said that given he was no longer her professor, nor had he been for some time and considering they were both adults and the fact that they had conceived a child together, it was perhaps appropriate that she call him by his given name.

"Fine, Severus. Now what do you want?" she replied handing him a short glass filled with firewhiskey.

"I would like to meet my son. I would like to get to know him."

"And once you get to know him, what are your intentions? I will not allow you to waltz into his life, be his dad for a few weeks only to have you abandon him."

"I rarely waltz, Miss…Hermione. I confess I had not thought that far ahead. I simply wanted to secure your permission to meet him before anything else. Committing to be a father is a big decision. As far as I know he doesn't want to meet me."

"He doesn't want to meet you Severus, because he thinks you are dead. The closest thing he has to a father is his godfather, but he deserves more. Especially since you are in fact alive."

"Mr Potter told me he has been having a rough time lately. Apparently, young Mr Weasley's manners have not improved in the last decade."

"Harry knows you are alive!? And he didn't tell me?!"

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger. Before this afternoon he did not know. We crossed paths by chance."

Hermione did as ordered. Even after all of these years, she was still slightly intimidated by him.

"Ron says nothing for or against my son. His little wife however is sure to say something at every family gathering, which you may have guessed, happen a lot. In August, Toby overheard her say he is a consequence of my loose morals, resulting in my break-up with Ron and providing the opportunity for them to get together. Since then he has been second guessing the value of his existence."

The dark professor steeped his fingers against his chin and thought for a moment. The wizard's eyes broke contact with her amber brown to roam about the room. In addition to tasteful wall art were several framed pictures of Toby throughout the years of his life with many faces Snape recognized—Potter giving the lad a broom; Potter and the Weasley girl holding baby Toby following the Godparent ceremony; Hermione graduating from University with the toddler on her hip while he waved her diploma; her appointment to the DMLE, Toby's first day of school—all events that he should have been present for. Well, he was here now and there was no way in hell he was going to miss any more important events in his son's life, and he certainly wasn't going to let him grow up insecure or ashamed of who he is.

"I will deal with Miss Brown," he said, returning his gaze to Hermione. "She was always a bit of a busy-body for her own good. It's high time someone stood up to her."

For a moment Hermione was worried by the tone of his voice that he was going to go all Death Eater on Lavender and curse her six ways from Tuesday. Not that she deserved anything less.

Sensing her concern, Severus assured her that he only intended to set Miss Brown straight—no actual harm would occur to her person.

"As for my son, I leave it to your discretion to arrange a meeting," he said standing.

"Do you plan to come back from the dead, then, Professor?"

"I have not given it much thought. My only concern at the moment is my son and his wellbeing. My resurrection can wait."

"Fair enough. I'll be in touch," she replied.

With a curt nod, he collected his mask and cloak and made his way to the door. Hermione followed him.

"Miss Granger?" Snape said, turning suddenly. He grasped her hand in his, holding it in earnest as he gave her, what he was sure a pitiful, sad face. "I know I have failed to make a positive impression on you regarding my sincerity. For myself, I never in the smallest moment ever thought I would be a father. I dared not hope, as you may recall, that I would survive the war even with my brilliant back up plan. I feel certain I would not have lived were it not for you. And seeing as I have been given a second chance at life, as it were, and seeing as I have in fact fathered a child, I'd like the chance to see if I could make a go of it."

In his eyes, the little witch could see the deep, resonating torment of just how sincere her one-time-lover really was. It was the same look she had seen in his eyes that morning they laid together—longing, loneliness, regret, fear. He had found a good thing but he wasn't sure if he deserved to have it; in fact he knew he had no right to want such a good thing in his dark miserable life. Still he wanted. He hoped. The faintest glimmer in his intense black eyes.

Standing on tip-toe, Hermione gently kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, Severus. If I had thought you a complete scoundrel I would have slammed the door in your face," she smirked.

Relief softened his features and the tiniest of smiles graced his lips. "Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night, Severus," she replied. Then he was gone.

Lavender Brown Weasley had retired to bed in a huff. After the embarrassment of not having worn costumes at the Potter's costume party, then Hermione Granger's outburst, then finally returning home with the unruly children who refused to go to bed. Her husband was, of course, of no help. As always, he mumbled something about being knackered and went straight to bed, leaving Lavender to the impossible task of putting down two riled up toddlers and cranky newborn.

All those women who told her motherhood was "simply bliss" and "no greater calling" and who made it look easy were absolute liars. In Lavender's book, motherhood sucked. Part of it she attributed to her useless husband; the other part to the fact that she had allowed herself to get drawn into such a miserable life in the first place: dated and married on the rebound, then knocked up right away. The harsh reality of Happily Ever After with her beloved Won-Won was not meeting her expectations.

Thus, by the time she climbed into bed that night, she was too exhausted and to fed up to even care about Ron snoring loudly beside her. A few peaceful hours of sleep; that's all she wanted. Unfortunately, rest was not peaceful. Her sleep was interrupted by nightmares.

Severus had not used a great deal of magic during the decade he was presumed dead. For the first few years he could not use it at all for fear that the Ministry of Magic was monitoring his magical signature. After that, he used it only when he absolutely needed to. Turns out, living as a muggle suited him very well and though it was a difficult adjustment at first, he found it rather easy to live without magic.

This Halloween night, however, is what he considered to be an absolutely necessary situation. Apparating first to Grimmauld Place for a quick chat with Potter, he then apparated to the wizarding village of Wookey Hole in Somerset.

The house of interest was a quaint little cottage, with a white picket fence and a front garden overflowing with plants. With a wave of his wand, he stepped through the pathetically weak wards. As an auror, Mr. Weasley should have known how to cast impenetrable wards. Dunderhead. The inside of the house reminded the former professor of the student he had once known—frilly, vain, over the top, pink and positively vomiticious.

He silently climbed the stairs and walked down the hall, following the sound of loud snoring. The door was slightly ajar. Flicking his wand toward the other bedroom doors, the spell would ensure that the children slept soundly for the rest of the night allowing him to achieve his objective without interruption. He then cast the same spell on the obnoxiously loud Mr. Weasley and transfigured his appearance to what it had been as professor at Hogwarts. Add a touch of ghostly glow and he was ready for a proper haunting.

"Miss Brown," he called from a dark corner of the bedroom. It was positively vomiticious and frilly too.

Lavender stirred slightly.

"Miss Brown," he called again, a little more firmly, and then again until she woke.

"Whose their?" she gasped into the dark.

Snape glided from his hiding place into view. Lavender's eyes widened in terror.

"Professor Snape? But you're dead?"

"That is correct Miss Brown."

"Why—how are you here?" She looked over to her husband for help but he was out cold.

"Did you not learn about the nature of ghosts whilst at Hogwarts, Miss Brown?"

"Y—yes Sir. You are a ghost?"

He rolled his eyes. The girl had now grown much in intelligence in the last decade.

"Obviously," he sneered.

"But why are you here?" she whimpered.

"Because of you Miss Brown."

"Me?!"

"Yes, though I am loathed to admit it."

"But why me? I hardly knew you. How could you have unfinished business with me?"

"Because you torment my son!" he shouted over her.

"But I never—I swear to you, Professor—I never did anything to him," she wept.

"Oh but you have. You think he is ignorant to the things you say about his mother? I assure you he isn't and his distress has prevented me from moving on. What business is it of yours how he came into being anyway?" he said menacingly.

"Why should she be allowed to get away with it? Prefect Granger. Teacher's Pet Granger. The Brightest Witch of her age Granger. Harry Potter's best friend, Granger. War heroine Granger! Her immoral behavior should not be overlooked simply because she was a Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes," Lavender spat.

"Really, Miss Brown, such petty jealousy and prejudice is very childish."

"It's not jealousy. It is outrage for her complete disregard for the decency of the traditional family. She's a slut and deserves to be publically disgraced."

"And I suppose you consider yourself to be the exemplar of such moral traditions?"

She raised her chin defiantly.

"I recall a time not too long ago when I caught you and Mr. Weasley in a broom cupboard, engaged in rather illicit activities."

Lavender blushed red, even in the dark.

"Let me make this very plain for you Miss Brown. You will leave Miss Granger and my son alone. You will cease you brainless and vile chatter and make an attempt at civility. If you do not, I can assure you that I will be back. And I take no pleasure from being here in the first place," he threatened.

She gulped and nodded.

"And I will admonish you to adapt to the times, Miss Brown. No one likes a self-righteous bitty. You have your hands more than full with that dunderhead Weasley there to campaign against Hermione Granger. You have been warned."

Dramatically he pointed a long slender finger at her which caused her to cower in her bed covers.

Without another word, he vanished, leaving Lavender Brown Weasley alone to contemplate the Professor's terrifying visitation. She didn't know that he smirked triumphantly as he made his way home.

…

November 2009, Manchester:

"Where are we going mum?"

"Somewhere special, my love," she replied, knotting his scarf snugly around his neck.

"But why won't you tell me?" he whined.

"Because that would spoil the surprise." Taking the boy's hand, they apparated away from their London home.

It was closing time at the Prince's Bakery when Hermione walked in with Toby.

"I'm sorry ma'am but we are closed," the girl behind the counter said with a slightly annoyed voice toward the latecomers.

"Mr. Prince is expecting me."

The girl disappeared into the back.

"Is this the shop where you got that apple Danish from?" Toby asked, looking at the remaining items in the case.

Hermione replied that it was, not once taking her eyes off the partition leading to the back room. Mastering her emotions over the last several years, she did not betray the anxiety she felt about this meeting.

A few minutes later, the counter girl appeared once more holding her personal effects.

"Mr. Prince will be right out. He asked that you wait here." Conveying the message, she walked out the front door and locked it behind her.

Her heart beat harder within her chest. Any minute now he would appear and one of two things would happen: Toby would be elated to learn his father is alive or he would be crushed, livid, or disappointed. Hermione greatly hoped for the first option even though she was still unsure of how the logistics would play out if Toby accepted his father and Severus accepted his son.

…

Severus peaked around the partition into the front of the shop. The dark haired boy was salivating over the few remaining pastries in the counter case while his mother waited stoically, glancing every few seconds in his direction. He had to smile, a little. The girl he remembered as his student used to intensely gnaw on her bottom lip when she was agitated. She has learned to control her emotions.

In truth, he was just as anxious as the witch about this meeting although for perhaps different reasons. What if he hates me? What if he doesn't want me for a dad? I sure wouldn't if I were him.

Even after all these years of living underground, carving out a respectable profession, Severus Snape still did not consider himself to be a worthwhile individual. Keenly intelligent and a skilled baker, sure, but there were just too many figurative and literal skeletons in his past to be forgotten, least of all by him.

"What are we waiting for mum? Is this guy your secret boyfriend everyone talks about when you aren't around?"

Hermione blushed brilliantly. The hiding wizard found it rather amusing. "Who says that?!" she demanded.

"Everyone. Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, Nana, Papa…."

The embarrassed witch looked at Severus once more. "No he is not my boyfriend. He's just a friend and someone very important to me," she answered her son though her eyes were locked on his father. A gentle smile graced her lips and did not go unnoticed by the elder Snape.

She considers me her friend? I am important to her? he wondered in amazement.

"Then why haven't I met him before?"

Questions, questions, questions. Children were always full of questions.

"I think I'll let him answer that question himself, if he'll stop being rude and show his face," she said lightheartedly.

That's my queue.

For a hesitant second, he debated downing a large glass of liquid courage but decided against it. Just go, Severus Snape. You lied to the face the worst dark wizard in history for years; you can certainly talk to a ten year old boy—who just happens to be your son. Easy-peasy.

Taking a deep breath, with his coat slung over one arm, he stepped into the front room.

Toby looked at the taller man with a scrunched brow.

"He looks familiar. Are you sure I haven't met him before mum?"

"Reggie Prince," Severus said extending his hand to his son. "We have not met before."

The boy shook the older man's hand with as firm of a handshake his little ten year old hand could manage. Snape was impressed.

"Severus Tobias Snape, Jr. But everyone calls me Toby."

"Junior? Named after your father then?" he asked, giving the mother a look. Toby stood a little straighter.

"Yes, Sir. Severus Snape, was my father." Even if his parents had not been married, he was still very proud of his parentage.

So far so good.

"Well then, shall we go? I don't know about you two but I am famished," Hermione interrupted.

Severus led them out the back door and down the street to his favorite Italian restaurant. Once seated at their table, he resumed asking Toby questions: his hobbies, what he liked about school, what he didn't, his friends, etcetera. As the evening wore on, the conversation became smoother and Toby, in turn, asked his mom's friend about his work with enthusiasm. Like most small boys, he couldn't think of anything more wonderful than working in a sweets shop.

"So what happened next?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean after I was born?"

"Don't you know?" she teased. "Well, with the help of your Uncle Harry and Nana, I was able to attend University."—she made it a point to leave out the bit about her using an illegal time-turner to take extra classes and sneak extra naps—"I was able to study hard and still keep up with you. I even graduated early. Then I went to work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and that's where I have been ever since. The rest is, as they say, history."

"When did you meet that Reggiey Prince fellow? You said he was your friend but you never once have mentioned him before."

"Mr. Prince is a very private man with a difficult past. I happened upon him by chance but never bothered to tell you or any of our other friends about him. He is a muggle after all and we're not. He might not understand our friends, nor they him."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Did you like him?"

Toby nodded. "He was really nice."

"I'm glad," she replied, tucking the covers a little tighter around him.

"Do you like him, mum?"

"Of course I like him; he's my friend, dear."

"No, I mean, do you like him?"

Hermione blushed. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how perceptive her son was.

"Not like that, I'm afraid. We are a great deal different in age. I don't think he would ever like me like that, nor I him. Why? Are you worried I may run off with him?" she teased.

Toby chucked. "No. I just wonder sometimes why you never bothered to marry after dad died and Uncle Ron bolted."

"I guess I never felt inclined to after that. The heart can only take so much and I had experienced my share of heartbreak. Besides, you are the only man I need in my life," she said, kissing his brow.

The boy smiled at his mother before letting out a big yawn.

"I can't shake this feeling though that I know him from somewhere," he said quietly.

"I know what you mean," she replied turning out the light.

…..

December 2009, London:

Severus was rather impressed with how his first initial meeting with his son went. He suspected that was partly due to the fact that he had introduced himself by his pseudonym.

Still, it had gone remarkably well and in the following weeks, he had the pleasure of a few more such meetings. And for the first time in years—too many to keep count—he had actual family to spend the Christmas Hols with, even if they didn't know he was actually family.

"Hermione, you're not helping. This is a big deal!"

"Well, perhaps if I knew what you had in mind. He has a variety of interests."

"Yes, but this can't be just any ordinary present. I'm his father for Merlin's sake, and I have ten absent Christmas' to make up for."

Hermione chuckled at the exasperated wizard. Never had she known, nor thought it possible, that Severus Snape would get so worked up in finding the perfect Christmas gift.

"Do you plan to tell him you're his dad? A big gift coming from his mom's 'friend' might come across as a bit odd."

The wizard-pretending-to-be-a-muggle stopped in his tracks. "Do you really think so?"

She shrugged in response. "He thought you were my secret boyfriend, you may recall. And I think he is hoping something will develop between us beyond friendship. He doesn't like that I am alone"—Severus stuttered—"But if he knows you are his dad, maybe he'll get off my back about dating."

"Really Hermione? You want me to come out of the closet so that you can avoid the tenacious pressure of a ten year-old to date? Really?"

She blushed, rather prettily he mentally noted.

"You know that's not what I meant. He's going to make the connection sooner or later. After all, you haven't changed in looks all that much in the last decade. I wouldn't be surprised if he's already figured it out but hasn't said anything. He is half-Slytherin after all."

Severus stood silently for several minutes, not really admiring the toys in the store any more.

"He is, lamentably the son of two incredibly clever individuals," he said finally. "Perhaps you are right."

Hermione smiled.

"You know, Severus, given that he is so much like us toys will hardly be amusing to him. What did you want more than anything when you were his age?"

"To go away to Hogwarts as soon as possible to escape my miserable father. Our circumstances are hardly the same."

"Not your home lives, perhaps, but he can't wait to get to Hogwarts as well. Already he has read through all of my first year spell books and I occasionally let him help me brew potions around the house. He just hasn't told you as much because he thinks you are a muggle."

"Great! I've fathered an insufferable-know-it-all. My reputation is ruined," he smirked. "Has he practiced any wand work?"

Hermione shook her head. "I've already promised him a wand for his eleventh birthday, though."

Again he thought for a minute, then smiling, he grabbed the witch by the wrist and pulled her in tow from the department store. "Come, Miss Granger. I have just the thing!"

They apparated to an alley around the corner form the Leaky Cauldron. There were so many people in the street walking from shop to shop; no one noticed their sudden appearance.

"Now, Miss Granger, do your worst. I have no intention of coming back from the dead to the magical world as yet," he said, standing a step in front of her.

Hermione took out her wand and began casting several glamour spells: darker skin, smaller nose, fuller lips, and longer black hair. When she'd finished, she held up a pocket mirror for him.

"Not bad. Should I fake a Spanish accent as well?"

"Only if you think it is possible you will be recognized by your voice."

Arm in arm they walked through the Leaky Cauldron, drawing many stairs, before stepping through the enchanted archway into Diagon Alley. It was more wonderful than he remembered and certainly in much better condition that the last time he saw it during the final years of the war. Witches and wizards, young and old, filled the main alley hurrying in and out of shops, their arms laden with many packages.

There first stop, Potage's Cauldron Shop, and then Slug & Jiggers Apothecary.

"Shall we stop for a bite to eat, Miss Granger?" he asked once they were back in muggle London.

She smiled, indicating her acquiescence and they walked to a corner deli.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, why is it you never married?"

Hermione nearly choked on her bite of sandwich. She answered him with a shrug.

"That is not a suitable answer."

"I suppose I never gave it a chance. I was so preoccupied for so long with school, and starting my career, and on top of it having an illegitimate son by a famous and dead war hero. My life was busy. And no one really wanted to date me. Eventually, I got used to it and became content to have my son as the only man in my life. What's your excuse?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why didn't you ever get married, Severus? You could have easily settled down with a nice muggle woman who had no knowledge of your shady past as a spy and reformed Death Eater."

He chuckled. Yes he could have. "I suppose, like you, I became too engrossed in my new life to worry about the loneliness I have grown so accustomed to over the last three decades." Why am I confiding in her? She doesn't need to know this!

"Is that why you have sought us out; is because you are lonely?" she asked rather firmly. She liked Severus but she was very protective of her son. The last thing she wanted was for him to be used to stem the pang of loneliness.

"Perhaps loneliness may have been part of it. But in the end I suppose I decided to do it because it was the right thing to do."

"That damned Gryffindor sense of nobility," she teased.

"Indeed," he replied with a slight smile.

…

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Prince!" Toby exclaimed, welcoming the gift laden man into the house.

"Happy Christmas, Toby," he replied, stepping over the threshold and into the front sitting room.

Severus helped himself to the punch set out on the side board after depositing his gifts under the tree.

"My, my," he said, taking in his surroundings.

Hermione had really outdone herself this year to ensure that this Christmas was particularly festive and memorable. She took extra holiday time off from work to hang twinkle lights on the front façade of the house and in the back garden; garlands on the stairs, mantel and doorways; a brilliant tree trimmed with ribbon and ornaments stood in the corner of the sitting room; and she had been baking for three days straight, filling the house with delicious aromas. In a word, she was determined that this Christmas be perfect.

"Mum really went all out this year. Usually we just have a tree, but that's because we always spend Christmas at Nana's," Toby explained.

"I'm honored that she would go through all of the effort and break tradition just for me." He really was.

"Do you not have a family to spend Christmas with, Mr. Prince?" mini-Snape asked, resuming his project of cutting out paper snowflakes and hanging them on the windows.

Technically no. "My parents died when I was young and I have no brothers or sisters or cousins." Not a lie but not a direct answer to the boy's question either.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied sincerely. "I guess that makes us your family for the day then," he said smiling.

"I guess so," the elder Snape said, retuning the smile. "I think I'll see if your mother needs help in the kitchen."

Silently, the ex-Death Eater crept up behind Hermione, as she intently tended the several pans on the stove. Her hair was down in smooth brown ringlets, a festive apron tied around her waist to protect the form-fitting red dress she wore, and her feet were bare; the glittering pumps kicked haphazardly in the corner.

In one swift move, he spun her in his arms and planted a lingering kiss on her lips. She would have squealed in shock if his lips hadn't been covering hers. Cupping the nape of her neck, he altered the angle to deepen the kiss. Merlin she tasted divine—like gingerbread and honey ham. She must have been sampling her own treats, he thought.

It was with great alarm that Severus Snape realized that he was attracted to Hermione Granger but the feeling was not unwelcome. Just startling, given the nature of their association. When he began this crazy venture of getting to know his son, he had no intention of actually getting involved with the mother any more than he already had. They would simply maintain a mutual amicable friendship—nothing more.

What he had not anticipated was how charming and loveable he found his former student to be. She was mature, sophisticated, and possessed a sharp wit in addition to the compassionate traits he had been privy to during her temporary stay in his chambers. And for whatever reason, she appeared to like him, even if it was only as a friend. Top it all off with a full grown version of the seductive girl he had known that night, and he was a goner. Again.

It became harder and harder to say goodbye at the end of each visit. The something that was missing from his life, the emptiness, the incompleteness was suddenly filled. He wanted to be a part of her life; of Toby's life. He wanted them to be a family in every sense of the word—mother, father, son, husband, wife, and child. Severus didn't even know if it was possible, whether the witch in his arms would even consider him for a husband, but he had to try. He wanted a lifetime of Christmas' like this one; and birthday parties and anniversaries and graduations. He wanted it all.

"To hell with caution!" he told himself. For two decades of his life he harbored a love for a woman who was a.) dead and b.) had never reciprocated his feelings. What a waste! But Hermione, she was different. Even when he was in the thick of it there at the end—murderer of Dumbledore, betrayer of the Order of the Phoenix, and evil Headmaster of Hogwarts—she had been forgiving. He was sure that she was the only woman in the world who would ever bestow such compassion and love on his twisted soul. He didn't deserve her, but it made him want her all the more.

"Bloody hell Severus! What was that for?" Hermione breathed when he relinquished her lips.

"Language, Miss Granger," he smirked triumphantly. The kiss had had the desired effect.

"Don't change the subject, Professor."

"I would think it was obvious that it was for you. And this is for giving me a son," he said kissing her once more. "And this is for giving me such a wonderful Christmas for the first time in my life. And this, this is for me." The kissed burned through her, hot and low.

"I got that. Care to tell me why?" she asked when he had surrendered her lips.

He groaned, released his hold about her waste, and leaned against an adjacent counter. Why did she have to ask so many questions? Just because he had feelings for her didn't mean he was good at verbally expressing them. She returned to her cooking, her head still buzzing.

"I…..It's just…..The house looks amazing." Stalling.

"Thank you," she replied quirking an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject; again.

"And dinner smells divine. Molly Weasley would be impressed." More stalling.

"Thank you."

He groaned again. Sweet Merlin on a bike, why is this so fecking hard?!

"Severus, just say it. The worst I can do is say no," she said. His bashfulness was rather endearing.

"That's the whole problem! You could say no and then I would feel like an even greater fool!"

"And if I do, what difference would it make?"

"You tell me."

"Perhaps if I knew the question first. For all I know you want to know if I make my gravy with milk or cream."

"Which do you use?"

She gave him an annoyed look.

He threw his hands in the air in frustration. "I feel like I am thirteen again asking out the prettiest girl in school for a Hogsmeade weekend, okay? I have no idea what I am doing and I am scared bloody shitless of rejection. But I can't help myself."

"My dear, Severus, are you trying asking me out on a date?" she chuckled.

"No. I'm trying to ask you to marry me."

The platter filled with stuffing that she had pulled from oven suddenly shattered on the floor at her feet. She didn't seem to notice because all she could do was stare at the man in a dazed stupor.

Toby suddenly came bounding into the kitchen. "Mum, are you all right? What happened?"

Severus whipped out his wand, repairing the dish and setting it and the stuffing to right on the counter.

"You're a wizard?!" the boy exclaimed, but Snape paid him no mind. His focus was on Hermione.

"I've loved you since that time we spent together at Hogwarts. I was just too stupid to not know it until now. Come on, Hermione. Let me make an honest woman out of you."

"I knew it! You're my dad!"

Hermione let out a teary chuckle then threw her arms around the wizard's neck and wept happy tears against his chest. "I thought you'd never ask."

Toby stood awkwardly, watching his parent's embrace, until his mother held out her arm welcoming him into the hug. That felt even more awkward, as if he was intruding. But what did he care? His dad was alive and no doubt had a very good explanation for why he didn't make himself known until recently, and his parents were going to get married at long last. Aunt Lavender and Uncle Ron could stuff it!

….

"Shut the front door! Snape is alive?!"

"Yes and he's going to be here any minute so do try to get a grip love."

She got a grip. A firm one on his arm that made him wince.

"How long have you known about this Harry James Potter?" Ginny asked, her temper rising.

"Since Halloween."

"And you didn't tell me?!" she raged.

"Well I very well couldn't now could I? Hermione had only just found him and she wasn't sure if he wanted to be a dad. If it's any consolation, she didn't even tell me; I found out by accident."

The doorbell rang.

"Okay, that's them. Try to be nice."

They heard the house elves answer the door and collect coats.

"Snape! Welcome back to Grimmauld Place," Harry said as he shook hands with his former professor.

"You have made some improvements, Potter. No doubt Miss Weasley deserves all the credit," he replied, shaking hands with Ginny as well.

"I've been Mrs. Potter for some time, Professor Snape."

"Old habits die hard, I'm afraid, Miss Weasley."

She smiled at him and offered him a drink while Harry greeted Hermione and Toby, who then ran off to find James and Albus.

"So, Professor, what is your plan of action?" Harry asked once they were all seated comfortably on the two sofas facing one another. It did not go unnoticed by himself or Ginny that their two guests were sitting awfully close to one another.

"You were always a little too direct, Mr. Potter. It would have done you some good to acquire a bit of Slytherin subtlety," Severus replied, taking a large swig of firewhisky. Oh how he had missed firewhisky. Muggle whisky simply did not compare.

"Gryffindor through and through, I'm afraid Sir."

"Very well. To come directly to the point I plan to resurrect myself within the magical world and I would like protection for my family from busy-body reporters."

"Of course. Is that all?"

"Hermione and I would also like to know if you would be willing to take Toby for a couple of weeks while we are on our wedding journey."

Ginny non-gracefully spewed her drink across the room, just barely missing her guests. "You're getting married?!"

"How perceptive you are Miss Weasley. Yes, Hermione and I are getting married. Seeing as I am not in fact dead, I figured we might as well."

By the sound of it, one would think that Severus was only marrying Hermione out of obligation—and that's how Harry and Ginny took it—but she knew better. He simply wasn't the type of man to gush about his feelings in conversation.

"Now hold on just a minute! Hermione you don't have to marry him just because he is Toby's dad," Harry protested. "You deserve better than to be married out of obligation."

The witch beamed at her friends and then bestowed a loving look on the man at her side. "I'm not. Turns out we are in love."

The Potter's looked skeptically at their guests and then at each other. They could hardly believe what they were seeing and hearing. The Insufferable-Know-It-All and the Bat-of-the-Dungeons, really?

"Mr. Potter I think you know your friend well enough to know that she never does anything without serious contemplation first. Neither of us came to this decision lightly."

"Well then, um…..I guess congratulations are in order," Harry said standing and shaking hands once more with Snape. It took Ginny a couple minutes for her body to catch up with her brain, before she followed her husband's example and congratulated her friend.

"Bloody hell, that's a big rock!" exclaimed at seeing Hermione's engagement ring.

The three carat diamond inlaid in an antique pave white-gold band stood out like a sore thumb on the witch's petite finger.

"That was the general idea, Miss Weasley. No one is to question or judge or make accusations about Hermione's marital status ever again," Severus said, wrapping a protective arm around his witch's waste.

"Lavender is going to have a litter," Ginny replied with an evil grin.

The wedding took place a few weeks later. It was a small private affair attended by only the Potter's, Molly and Arthur Weasley, and Toby of course. Hermione wore a simple but elegant ivory gown and carried a bouquet of bright pink Erica Heath blossoms; Severus wore a new suit.

Immediately after the bonding ceremony and toasts, the newlyweds departed for an exotic wedding journey to the Virgin Islands.

….

Resurrection was a tricky business. After being legally declared dead only a year ago, Severus was forced to undertake mountains of official paperwork, examinations, and inquisitions to confirm that he was indeed Severus Snape, Sr. before he could be declared legally alive and have all of his properties returned to him, including his wand.

Then of course there was the press to deal with. The Daily Prophet wanted an exclusive interview, which he refused to give, with all the seedy details of his seduction of an innocent student to his cowardly self-imposed exile.

Harry Potter had thankfully provided the necessary Aurors to protect Toby while he was at school, Hermione while she was at work, and Severus…..well he didn't really need any protection once he got his wand back.

Former friends and colleagues proved to be the most difficult part. Minerva McGonagall had slapped him insanely hard before pulling him into a bone breaking hug. Something about all the worry he had caused her was expressed. Molly Weasley had of course sobbed tears of joy and insisted on throwing Severus a resurrection party. All other members of the Order of the Phoenix seemed as equally overjoyed to see him alive and well, just without the tears. It was rather disconcerting considering the last time he had seen most of these people, they had hated him. Funny how death changes things. Lavender Brown Weasley fainted at the sight of him, nearly dropping little Wilfred in the process, and Ron happily congratulated them on their recent nuptials. Turns out although he couldn't bring himself to marry Hermione, he still hated seeing her alone and socially scorned for being a single mother.

As for his life in Manchester and the bakery, Severus decided to expand his enterprise to London, moving into Hermione's townhouse so that Toby could finish the school year.

"So what happened dad? The night of the battle?"

It was Severus' turn now to tell the bedtime story. Hermione was in the bedroom across the hall, folding clean laundry on the bed and listening in.

"Hermione, did you tell him how I died?"

"Yes, dear."

He settled into the chair beside his son's bed.

"Well then, you know how the Dark Lord cut my throat and sent his snake on me,"—Toby nodded—"And how your brilliant mum tried to save me with an antivenin and some Essence of Dittany." Again Toby nodded.

"Okay. I must say it was a masterful performance; worthy of any Shakespearean tragedy," he said with a cheeky grin. "I blacked out. Your mum and Potter mistook it for being dead. In fact I was mostly dead; not all dead. I had lost a lot of blood and the Blood Replenishing potion was slow. But the Antivenin worked, as did the Dittany. So while they went off to do their thing, leaving me for dead, my body rested for a couple of hours letting the Replenisher do its job…"

Severus woke in a mess of grime made from his blood and the thick coating of dust on the floor. His body ached and he had a terrible case of nausea. It was dark and quiet in the Shrieking Shack. Straining the ears for the sounds of battle, he heard nothing. Just the wind whistling through the decrepit building.

Slowly, he pushed himself up enough to sit against the weathered wall. He was alive. Bloody hell he was alive when he shouldn't be. A smile graced his lips—"Bless you Granger" he said to the emptiness.

He had no idea of how much time had passed. There was a faint glow of dawn coming over the mountains so he guessed a good couple hours at least. Was the battle over? Was the Dark Lord dead? Was anyone going to bother coming back for his body? Severus highly doubted the last.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a Pepper Up potion and a nourishment potion and drank them in to heavy swigs. It took the potions longer than usual to take effect because of the ware on his body but they did take effect and he was able to stand and even walk. A hot bath and a long soak in the tub sounded particularly appealing at that moment. Soon, he promised himself.

Taking one last look about the room, the big blood stain spread across the floor, the wizard did the unthinkable and tossed his wand onto the floor near where his body had just laid. Taking out his unregistered spare, he cast a cleaning charm on his clothes so he wouldn't leave a trail of blood, and he tossed the dust on the floor to hide his boot tracks.

He made his way to the Boar's Head. Thankfully, most of the town was deserted including the dilapidated tavern. Tossing a handful of floo powder into the hearth, Severus Snape, former Death Eater, Head of Slytherin House, Potions Master and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry left the wizarding world behind.

He landed in his living room at Sinner's End. Collecting some essentials and the muggle money he had stowed there with false muggle identification documents just in case he did make it our alive, he left. Taking a train to Manchester, Severus checked into a hotel for a few weeks to recuperate and figure out his next move.

"I decided to open a bakery. I rented a little apartment, got a library card, bought a bike even, and established myself as the entrepreneur Reginald Prince, middle-aged scholar with a hobby turned business. I didn't bother to contact anyone in the magical world or read the paper or anything. I became a muggle and that was how I planned to stay until your mum found me out. Clever witch."

"Are you sorry she found you, dad?"

"Not in a million years, son. You see, I thought I was happy as a muggle. I was my own person; I could go and do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, but I wasn't happy. Not completely, anyway. Something was missing and I didn't know exactly what it was until I found you."

"That's really cheesy, dad," Toby said with a gross look on his face.

Severus chuckled. "Yes it is. But it's the truth."

He didn't kiss his son good night. Rather they did this peculiar thing kids loved to do these days—a fist bump. Whatever.

September 2010, London:

They were a happy family as they walked along Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Toby could barely contain his excitement to be going off to Hogwarts at last with Teddy and Victorie. His parents had been sure to tell him to not be an insufferable-know-it-all even though he was sure to be at the top of his class. But what pleased the boy most of all was that his mother was not going to be alone while he was away. He had spent countless hours fretting about that before his dad resurfaced.

For his part, Severus was rather annoyed at the stares the trio received as they got Toby settled on the train. So he had come back from the dead; woopty-damn-do! Technically he had never actually been dead. And so what if he had married a former student. He was one lucky man.

Looking over at his wife, he could see she was oblivious to the starrers and whispers. Or if she wasn't, she simply chose to ignore them. Hermione was glowing; mostly with pride for their son, but he suspected her elation also had something to do with her slightly round belly. There were to be more children in their home and she couldn't be more excited. In truth, nor could he.

"We'll see you at Christmas, love," she said, kissing Toby's cheek to which he protested in embarrassment. "Be sure to write."

"And one last piece of advice: whatever you do, don't get caught," Severus said, earning a swat from his wife.

"I'll try dad. But I think that may be a bit hard considering who my parents are. I've heard stories."

Severus chuckled while Hermione blushed.

Hugging his parents once more, he climbed into the compartment with Victorie and Teddy.

"Don't forget to send me apple Danishes, Dad!" he shouted as the train pulled away.

"You did good Hermione," Severus said as they walked back to the car.

"We did good Severus. I didn't make him all by myself."

"Yeah, but I didn't raise him. If I had been there I would have probably ruined him. I was such a mess there at the end."

"You should give yourself more credit, love, and don't belittle yourself so much. You have always been a better man than you let everyone believe."

A slight smile twitched his lips.

"It never ceases to amaze me that you and Dumbledore seemed to be the only people who believed that."

"Well it's high time you started believing it too," she said, kissing his cheek.

"Did you ever think it would turn out this way, Hermione? I mean during those days we were together?"

His wife laughed. "Not in a million years."

….

The End

...

Author Notes:

Thank you all for you kind reviews. One reader mentioned that there could be a legal issue with Toby taking the Snape surname. I didn't research such laws because I am operating under the assumption that somehow, magically, they are able to determine that Toby is Snape's son. Also, Toby is illegitimate in the really old sense that he was born out of wedlock. Example, Queen Victoria inherited the thrown only because her King uncles had not produced a living heir with their lawful wives and queens. The sons of their mistresses could not be king. Since in many respects the Wizarding world isn't so current in terms of customs and traditions, I write it as such.