A\N: I do not own Harry Potter. This is a crazy idea that came to me this morning. I have an idea where this going and who is responsible, but please review with ideas!

Hermione looked up as the doorbell rang. Shaking her head she placed her book on the table and rose to her feet. The bell rang again.

"I'm coming," she called. "Who in the world would coming over this early?" she muttered. She opened the door and promptly fainted.

"Hermione!" He grabbed her before she hit the floor. He carefully carried her over to the couch and laid her down, sitting in a chair himself. He put his head in his hands and sighed.

"I should have known better," he whispered to himself. He glanced around the room, his eyes settling on the book she had been reading. He remembered having a copy in his collection. He reached over to pick it up when he heard her groan. He pulled his hand back and turned to her.

"Who are you?" she whispered staring at him. "You can't be him. He's dead."

"Hermione, it is me."

"Prove it," she demanded sitting up, her fingers curling around her wand.

"Ask me anything."

"You'll have done your research. Okay, only the real Severus will know this one. When did I lose my virginity?" Hermione's eyes were dark staring at him, judging him, waiting for him to slip up so she could hex him.

"May sixteenth. It was our three month anniversary. You wore a white negligee. I wore silk boxers, black of course." Her eyes narrowed.

"Where were we?"

"Astronomy tower at first, then my chambers, ending up in the prefects' bath with lavender bubbles." Her cheeks flushed.

"You were dead." Tears formed in her eyes. "I mourned you, I cried myself to sleep for weeks."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Do you want me to leave? I should leave," he turned to stand. How could he have done this to her, he should have known this would not go well. Suddenly he was unable to move. Her fingers curled tightly around her wand.

"Don't you dare! You think you can just come back here, let me know you're alive and then leave me again?" He started to answer how he hadn't meant to cause her pain, but a pair of soft, warm lips pressed against his prevented him from speaking. With a wave of her wand, he could move again.

"Now, sit back down and explain everything." He obeyed sinking into the plush grey couch next to her. She had redecorated slightly his death.

"I'm not sure I can explain. I remember being with you, walking hand in hand, a sharp pain, blackness. Then light, I was trapped," he paused at the horror across her face.

"Merlin, oh, no," she whispered taking shallow breaths.

"Thank you for burying me with my wand. If you hadn't I would have suffocated in that blasted coffin!"

"If I had known, I never would have allowed you to be buried. The healers said you were dead."

"Does anyone know what spell I was hit with? Or who did it?"

"No to both questions. Who ever did it, it was nonverbal. I never saw the assailant, all I saw was you crumble to the ground, dead on our wedding day." Tears started running down her face. He carefully wiped them away and pulled her against him.

"We both know that ceremony was just for our friends and family."

"I know, but still. No one else knew."

"How long was I dead," he finally asked scared of the answer. How long had he left her alone.

"Almost three months."

"That long? Shit," he muttered. "Why didn't my body..."

"I don't know?"

"Did the aurors cast a stasis spell?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Harry would have mentioned."

"So, it must be part of whatever I was hit with, or some side effect they didn't care about."

"Does that mean they weren't trying to kill you? Or did they mess up?"

"Maybe they were only trying to put me out of the picture for a bit?"

"They might have thought I would cremate your remains," Hermione whispered. "Some people were pushing for me to do so, so your body couldn't be desecrated."

"I am beyond glad you didn't listen, my stubborn witch," he whispered kissing her on the forehead.