Author's note: Firstly, I don't know where this story came from, I just started writing and it came to me. I do not smoke, but for some reason I have had odd attractions to men who did, do I made SS a smoker, but of clove cigarettes. If this is icky to you, sorry! Also, I am still working on my post Final Battle Snape, somehow I think I always sneak in a little too much Alan Rickman. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!
He took a long draw of his cigarette and watched her walk back to the table and take a seat across from him, cunningly reaching for the cigarette as she did and taking a drag.
"You haven't been here in weeks; I thought you'd finally given up." She teased, handing it back to him and watching as it touched his lips, the tender lips she so desperately wanted to taste.
"You're not free of me yet, HG." The nickname; she wasn't quite sure when that had started, but it made her laugh and cringe all the same, hearing the dark man across from her flirt and drink in her favorite pub every month or so, as mysterious as ever. She offered her hand to him after shooting a firewhiskey, but he appeared reluctant.
"I won't bite." The laugh in her voice pulled him from his chair, thankful the lights were dim in the 'Tapping Toad', as he circled her waist, resting one hand at the base of her spine, his fingers keeping the tempo.
"What if I want to be bitten?" He whispered against her ear, taking her other hand in his and dancing with her pressed against his body, the song one familiar to both of them. When it had started, she knew she wanted to be in his arms while it played- it was the first song they'd ever danced to, five years prior.
"I'll be happy to bite you, just show me where, or would you rather I guess?" Her mouth found his earlobe, then his jaw, and then his mouth, biting his lip gingerly she felt him tense slightly. It was perverse that he liked being nibbled on just so, seeing as he'd barely survived his last major bite. But, she never questioned his predilections, she simply acquiesced, they were both broken.
"Gods, you're why I can't leave, filthy temptress. What spell have you cast on me?" Her eyebrows raised slightly at his jest, forcing her thumb into the waist of his tight black pants, as she continued her nibbles, taking his mouth again and this time taking her hand from his shoulder and running it through his hair, her favorite texture and she pondered his words: he wanted to leave York, to say goodbye to their flirtation, her only solace since the war.
"Maybe I have, maybe if you try to leave, you'll find that I'll just follow you." It was a tease and a threat, a promise that she wasn't ready to say goodbye to her fling, to the one thing that made her forget all the dead, the blood, the people they'd lost. He spun her, running his hands up and down the sheer fabric of her dress and then pulled her taut once more, making her forget herself for a moment.
"Would you really follow me?"
"Do you really want to know?" They hadn't ever discussed their odd pairing, no attachments were made nor exclusivity agreed upon, but Hermione knew she wanted no one else, especially after she'd had him. In the years that had followed the war, she'd wanted to bury herself in books and her job, a boring drudgery at the Ministry, but her NEWTs scores had promised her more and though she'd yet to act on her impulses, she knew that Severus had saved her from drowning in her own grief and anger. He was so strict in his habits, so severe that she hadn't expected him to even talk to her when she'd first come into the pub, forgetting he was even living in York. That first night, when she'd brought him two rounds of firewhiskey, she knew he was supremely irritated by her presence, the impertinence of a former student encroaching his personal space, especially she when she was the last person he'd wanted to see again after practically throwing himself at her in the infirmary as they coalesced. But, two drinks in and five more later, she'd actually gotten him on the dance floor, pressing her body against his was the first time she hadn't felt uncomfortable or ill, she was simply attracted and happy to have someone touch her, even if he was twenty years her senior. Ron and Harry didn't understand, they were preoccupied with their own lives and her melancholy felt unwelcome. She never burdened him, they didn't talk about Hogwarts or the war, his dramatic recovery, her lingering pain, but they found each other so often in comfortable silence and hurried intimacy, never making love, only sex. It was enough for her.
"Take me home." She whispered, lighting another of his clove cigarettes and filling her mouth with the taste of him. He didn't pause, simply grabbed her bag and took her elbow, leading her to the back door so they could apparate. In seconds they were in his flat, his familiar meowing softly as they landed on the dark carpet of his study. It took Hermione a moment to orient herself and adjust to the dim lamps. Purgo meowed again, demanding dinner, so Severus excused himself for a moment, as was the routine leaving Hermione to smoke and finger his books, each one more interesting and devilish as the next. She only knew he'd come back when the zipper of her dress moved against her spine, dipping lower and lower until he saw that she had no knickers on. Taking the cigarette from her, he finished it and tossed the remains into the fireplace.
"Someday you are going to show up at that pub and I won't be able to save you from those berks who want to tear you apart." He moaned against her, ravishing her neck with kisses as he slipped the dress off her shoulders, noting she also wasn't wearing a bra.
"You keep threatening to let them have me, perhaps you have a secret fetish I've yet to discover. Do you want to let those men have me, Severus? Do you want them to take me against the bar stools, the high tops, the bar itself?" Suddenly, she felt his arm come around her neck, forcing her to face him as his other hand rested on her stomach, traveling across her soft skin.
"Or would you rather they gag me, take me to the alley? They would do so many bad things to me." He caught her mouth in a fierce kiss, stopping the banter that was making him entirely too mad and jealous.
"They would all die before I let that happen to you." For a moment, she saw the hint of regret in his eyes, that he'd even mentioned it at all, but it was replaced quickly by his tantalizing look of lust, the one he always gave before taking her to his room; this time, to make things fun, she ran ahead of him, taking her heels off as she did and pulling her hair up with the hair tie at her wrist.
"You could never outrun me, my dear." His arms caught her, his clothes now gone, she felt him hard against her, the familiar pulse of him radiating throughout her body.
"Why would I want to?" But her muffled words didn't register as he took her to his bed, being extremely gentle for him, his mouth challenging hers with each step, until the felt the mattress behind her knees and his hands gently pushing her back, teasing her with his tongue, trailing the line of her jaw and the curve of her neck. He knew it unnerved her to lose control with him, but he loved watching her writhe beneath him, struggling to keep her eyes from rolling back into her skull, fighting him only momentarily as he tasted her wares. Hermione's eyes shot open as he came to rest next to her, he rarely paused or took his time, he was always rushed and meticulous, his methods always clear. But, as she looked to him, she saw something else in his eyes, a longing she'd never seen before, a desire that was different, so very different.
"I've never paid attention to this scar before, why am I just now seeing this?" He asked, tracing the scars on her chest, the large one in between her breasts. It was normally glamoured.
"I hide it, it's ghastly." She didn't want to talk about it or how she'd received it; her boneheaded mistakes as a teenager with her friends, always headstrong and sure of herself in the face of certain danger.
"You're…"But he stopped himself, realizing that perhaps waxing poetic would make him a dreadful bore. She didn't need him to tell her how beautiful he believed her to be, the softness of her skin against his, every curve and crease so welcome to his slender form. They'd never spoken those things aloud, but he hoped she understood how much he admired her form, every inch of her he believed to have memorized, but the visual of her scar had thrown him as soon as they entered the bedroom, his dim lights highlighting her glowing skin, and suddenly he remembered how young she was. His conscience forced him to slow down, to think for a moment about their frenzied coupling over the years, she'd only been nineteen the first time, but mature enough and knowledgeable enough. He recalled worrying she'd be a virgin, but if she had been, he couldn't tell by her facial expressions as he entered her the first time, only a soft moan escaped from her lips and he forgot who was beneath him. It tooks the years in between for her to become a real person to him, someone he valued even if he never spoke the words to her. Hermione was no longer his former student, she was HG, a woman who stole his cigarettes and read his books, lounging in her knickers or one of his shirts in his study, making their tea and lunches, when they actually ate, and then forcing him into more frenetic sexual situations before leaving his flat to return to hers, only two blocks away. He never stayed at her flat.
"Are you alright, Severus? You seem miles away." Her eyes drowned in his, her hands tracing the lines of his face before her lips met his, in a soft kiss, also unlike her.
"Just woolgathering." He was positively gone, his mind reeling over things they'd never discussed. Where was his bravado? His slytherin cunning? He felt Hermione push him back, her mouth trailing the line of chest, down the trail of hair, and then slowly take him in her mouth, his breathing stopped and she cleared his mind, at least while she pleasured him.
"Who taught you that, HG?"
"You did, Severus, and thank god, I love watching you squirm." His hips rocked for a moment and she knew she had to slow down before he was completely spent, crawling to straddle him and slowly rock him to orgasm, watching his face change from the surly and cruel man she'd once known to a man, simply a man beneath her. He rarely let her take control like this and she was enjoying every moment, his hands teasing her breasts and then one burying itself where she was rocking, her body completely attuned to his, their coupling more than just movements in the dark. For a moment, she let herself look at him, his eyes open and staring at her, something he rarely did. She wanted to read his mind, know exactly what he was thinking as she brought him closer and closer to ecstasy; was he remembering his former life, thinking of another woman he'd had years before, or even thinking of her? But, the longer she looked at him, she saw something in his eyes she didn't quite recognize, it looked like regret and that made her ill. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Was he disgusted with her? She'd never felt so anxious with him; there had never been any doubt before with him. Pushing it out of her mind, she held him tight, leaning forward and holding him as they both came, almost making her eyes water, finding his mouth and taking one last kiss before lying next to him. She felt daffy and irrational, Severus had never expressed any emotion aside from lust and contentedness; perhaps she just misread him.
After catching her breath, Hermione went to the washroom and peed, and then washed her face, her eyes were red and puffy, had she actually cried? Adjusting her ponytail, she wiped her face again and wondered why she felt so absurd. Stealing herself before returning to his bed, she found her heart fluttering and her stomach dropped...she was actually worried he would really leave...was this goodbye?
His arms found her as she crawled into his bed, pulling the blankets around them as he did and placing several kisses on her neck, unable to see the worried expression on her face. The evening had started as it always had. She came home from the Ministry, shed her work robes and changed into her pub clothes, knowing that weekends were Severus' favorite time to drink and shag. He hadn't seemed off at the pub, but her scar had changed something in him. Maybe they needed to talk about the war and Hogwarts; maybe avoiding it had made things more complicated instead of less. When she heard the soft snores of his sleep, she pulled away and went downstairs, finding one of his shirts in the laundry and a pair of his boxer briefs. His couch was the most comfortable piece of furniture in his house and she loved curling up with Purgo and a book, a light blanket tucked around them as she devoured his books. The sun came up before she realized how much time had passed, so she made breakfast and took it up to him, his favorite tea, darjeeling with lemon, and eggs and kippers. Severus was curled into a ball, the covers completely twisted around him as she set down the tray, enticing him awake with soft kisses, wrapping her body around his.
"It's too early." She heard him moan, taking her hand in his.
"It's almost ten and I have some potions to brew. I've brought you breakfast and tea." He was obviously groggy, barely awake as she spoke, turning to catch a kiss or two, but keeping his eyes closed.
"Okay, love, don't let Purgo into the lab, he knocked over my lavender yesterday." Love? He'd never used that epitaph with her before, ever, not once in five years. Kissing him once more, she put a warming charm on the food and padded down to his lab, so completely confused by his actions.
Hours later, after finishing her contraception potions and calming droughts, she stoppered them and put several vials in her bag, then refilling the shelf he'd let her use for her particular brews, noting that his own stores of dreamless sleep and pepperup were drastically short. She started those as well, not realizing how much time she'd spent brewing, until he finally came down and checked on her progress, snorting as he watched her chop.
"How did you run out of dreamless sleep? I just brewed it last month." But as soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she hadn't said anything. Perhaps that's why he was acting so odd, he'd been having nightmares again. He didn't answer, simply prepared vials and stoppers, putting them in the wooden box he'd made for storage and checked her other potions, noting the contraception potion.
"Did you eat?" Her question was met with a nod, he was going to be irritable that morning; she knew then it was best not to talk to him, so she didn't. Instead, as the potions brewed and were stable, she circled her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder blade and squeezing gently before returning to her work, stirring and turning the heat down on the pepperup. Before allowing them to cool and pouring them into the vials, stoppering and returning them to the shelves. Her hands were tired and sore as she went back upstairs to his study, still in his shirt and underwear. Purgo met her in the kitchen, looking for extra breakfast, so she dipped down and pet him while filling his bowl.
"You're such a sweet boy, so soft and cuddly."
"No one has ever described me that way…" She heard Severus remark snidely, a smirk on his lips. 'Finally,' she thought, he was being himself, so she rewarded his snark with a kiss and brewed another pot of tea, desperate for caffeine and one of his cigarettes, she only smoked with him.
"I'm going to read." Departing the room, she found her spot on the sofa and waited for the kettle to sound, but found herself engrossed in one of his books, her tea appearing as she read.
"Sweet boy." She teased, sheepishly, as he dipped to steal a kiss and a sip of her tea. They sat in comfortable silence for hours, each reading and drinking tea, Purgo happily sleeping between them. At some point, Hermione finally succumbed to sleep, her head falling against the armrest and the book hitting the floor, Severus stirred at the sound, seeing his paramour deep in sleep. He knew her neck would sting when she woke, so he scooped her up and carried her to his room, lying next to her and falling back to sleep himself. When Hermione woke again, she was curled against Severus, her head on his chest and leg and arm draped across him.
"So lazy today, HG, one would think you were awake all night."
"I was, in fact. I couldn't sleep at all." She stretched, nibbling his arm as she did and decided on a shower, pulling herself from his bed and standing shakily, stripping his clothes off as she did and tossing them in the hamper. It had taken a few 'dates' before Hermione had been comfortable enough to dress and undress in front of him, but she soon found that she need hide nothing from him...her scar had been the only thing she didn't care to show. When she'd washed and dried off, she found Severus sitting on the edge of his bed, his feet on the cold floor and his head in his hands. The sight made her pause, he looked a tortured soul and she didn't know what she needed to do. He hadn't heard her leave the washroom, so she just watched him, wondering what was bothering him because he'd never appeared like this to her, aside from their time spent in the infirmary after the war. Walking softly to him, she dropped her towel and pulled his face up to meet his eyes, seeing the same distress she'd seen the night before. Kneeling before him, she put her arms around his neck and held him against her, letting him feel whatever he needed to feel, wondering if there was anything she could say to assuage him. She knew, though, that words rarely ever fixed a temper or mood of Severus Snape's. Instead, she just held him, her nakedness against the flannel of his pajamas, wishing she could understand why he seemed so out of sorts.
He pulled her up and onto the bed with him and for the first time, in their history, Severus made love to Hermione, slowly and with all the finesse of a scholar of love, treating her as a delicate flower, confusing her even further and making her doubt everything she'd ever known of him. When he held her afterwards, her eyes almost certain to fill with tears, she wanted to ask him a hundred questions, but instead she just let him cover her in kisses.
They didn't speak the next morning aside from general pleasantries before Hermione returned to her flat, giving Purgo one last pat before walking to the kitchen and kissing Severus goodbye. It was a longing kiss, one filled with questions and as she stood still, her bag in her hand and her wand tucked safely at her side, she looked in his eyes one last time before she lost herself and cried, finally letting herself admit that she loved him, that she knew he loved her, and that if he ever did leave York, she would follow him. She didn't know if he'd seen her tears, but she was sure he'd heard her gentle cry and sniffle as she departed; chastising herself for being so daft, she ran a bath and soaked in her tub. What the hell had happened that weekend?
( ((())))
His hand tapped lightly on the table as he watched the door, smoking his cigarette and wondering if she was going to show. It had been two weeks since he'd seen her and it was gnawing at him. He couldn't explain what had happened that night when she'd first come to his flat, was it the scar? Was it her general presence? He knew he could no longer fool himself that he was only seeking gratification from her, company to interrupt the silence of his flat on regular days, but he also admitted that telling her would perhaps ruin what they had, an understanding that suited them both. For five years, he'd seen her roughly two weekends out of the month, every now and then a week night, and they'd shagged for hours, read and enjoyed meals together. It was a happy life, one he wouldn't trade for what he'd previously had, yet he wanted more...he wanted her around more.
Finally, she walked in, a long, teal dress, fitted but not too revealing, her hair was wrapped in a messy bun on her head, her neck completely exposed. Stopping at the bar, not having seen Severus, she ordered a gillywater and two shots of firewhiskey, flirting for a moment with her favorite bartender, Phillip, then scanning the room, spotting her dark-haired wizard in a new corner.
"Trying to hide from me?" Her voice was raspier than normal, and he noted immediately that she had a glamour on her chest again.
"I particularly enjoy watching you play the room, my dear, a great advantage for me." He kissed her hand and then toyed with her bracelet, some muggle charm bracelet her father had given her before he and her mother died, the small scottie dog being his favorite charm. She moved her chair directly next to him so she could hold his arm, she hadn't realized how much she missed him until she saw his face, markedly happy to see her as well, well as much as he could look that happy. Taking his hand in hers, she wrapped her fingers in his, rubbing his thumb gently. When he turned to her, kissing her softly and touching her collarbone, he noticed her wince, immediately she pulled away, she should've warned him about the incident at work.
"I had a run in with some nasty creatures this week, one happened to hit me pretty hard." She removed the glamour and he saw black and blue, her entire neck was bruised from what looked like strangulation and her collarbone had obviously been broken, her arms were in pretty bad shape as well.
"What the hell, HG?"
"I was in St. Mungos for a few days, I didn't think I'd make it today, you have an owl at your flat in case I hadn't been able." His anger boiled,forcing two drinks back in quick succession.
"When did this happen?"
"Monday, Harry took me, he's actually the one who reported first which never happens, and Shacklebolt put me on leave until next week, apparently, even though I'm healed aside from the bruising, my run in is being kept from the papers." 'Monday?' he thought and she hadn't said anything to him.
"These are bad," he remarked, looking at the large marks on her neck, "how long did this go on?" She could see the real concern on his face.
"I don't recall, I was knocked out." Hermione felt like a fool, here she was with an accomplished dueler and former spy and she'd been bested so easily on a typical reporting duty.
"I see why you didn't become an auror."
"Laugh all you want, Severus." But he wasn't laughing, the joke he'd made was intended to lighten his mood but he couldn't help but feel concerned about her as she re-cast her glamour and walked back to the bar. Phillip gave her two more shots and another gillywater, another local complimented her on her dress, but Hermione didn't notice his flirtation, she simply wanted to get back to Severus.
"Dance with me?" She held out her hand, watching him begrudgingly join her on the dance floor, her arms around his waist as it hurt too much to put them around his neck; they swayed and turned, her body fitting nicely against his. A lady crooned some ancient love song and it brought back Hermione's earlier feelings about her sudden realization of love for her former professor. She'd even told Harry, who'd known for years about their particular attachment. He hadn't given her advice beyond steeling her heart against him in case he wasn't quite as serious. When the music picked back up, Severus led her back to the table and pulled her close.
"If something like this ever happens again, I…" But he stopped, unsure of the right words to say or how to convey them. Hermione pulled his face to hers and softly met his lips.
"I didn't know if you, um, wanted to be bothered." His eyes flicked to her cruelly, as though she was implying he had no feelings whatsoever.
"I may never spoken this aloud, but I do have concerns for you and if this were to happen again, I would feel…" She was growing frustrated with his inability to just say what he wanted to say. It was obvious to her that he was genuinely worried for her.
"Severus…" He put his fingers to her mouth and kissed her as he moved them.
"Just tell me, please." He finally said, his arm resting on her shoulders as they watched the other bar hoppers, locals of York who spoke in accents Hermione loved. They sat and watched the scene for hours before Hermione finally tired and asked to leave, she always asked to leave before he did.
"Take me home, Severus." He held her tight, but instead of taking her to his flat, he landed in her back garden, surprising her greatly. When she shyly reached for the doorknob, she felt confused and worried that it meant he wasn't going to stay. Taking down her wards, she pulled the door open and turned to him, he'd never even seen her flat, aside from her garden once or twice.
"Are you staying or just dropping me off?" Severus took two steps to cross the threshold of her home and close the door, immediately removing his frock coat and boots, noting that her mudroom was much larger than his.
"Did you think I'd leave you alone like this?"
"I don't have to be nursed like a child, Severus." She looked so much like Molly Weasley for a moment, hands on her hips and a stern look.
"You often take care of me, it's only appropriate. Besides, if I want to touch you at all, we'll need bruise salve. Where do you keep it?" He followed her to her washroom on the first floor and found she was as neat in her home as she always was in his. Before applying the salve, he helped her out of her dress and bra, the bruising extending to her ribs and back, it instantly reminded him of his days under Voldemort.
"Were you really going to glamour this and hope I didn't notice?"
"No, I was going to explain when we got to your flat, but then I didn't realize how painful it was even to move a bit." He rolled his eyes and continued to cover her in the salve, finding her a soft top to wear from her closet and descended the stairs.
"Here." He threw her soft pajamas at her and made tea, finding his way around her kitchen easily as she had organized it exactly like his. Bringing them both tea and biscuits, Severus found her blanket and covered them both after he stripped down to his undershirt and boxer briefs. With a flick of her wand, Hermione played music from her computer and snuggled against him, simply content to listen to him breath and sip his tea. When she fell asleep, as she was wont to do in his arms, he carried her up the stairs to her room and laid her gently on her bed; he'd made sure her tea had a calming and pain drought. Lying next to her, Severus breathed deeply and turned the lights out.
Hours later, Hermione woke suddenly from a nightmare, her eyes adjusting slowly to her room, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to find her voice. Severus shot up, she hadn't had a nightmare in his presence in years. Refusing to feel sorry for herself, Hermione wiped her eyes quickly and patted his arm before lying back down, trying to stop her tears.
"Don't be ashamed to cry, HG." Smoothing her hair, he kissed her cheek softly.
"Please don't leave, please." She pulled his arms tight around her, turning to face him for a moment and meeting his lips, she felt as vulnerable as she could ever be. In the last three weeks, she'd cried in front of him twice and that hadn't happened since the first year, she didn't want him to think her a woman unable to control her emotions, but they were broken people who'd experienced more than most people did in two lifetimes.
"I'm not leaving, I promise."
"You say you will, all the time...if you're really going to, do it soon because I…"Her words failed and she felt even more insipid than the moment before. He was not a man to be trifled with and she was pushing his buttons, she just knew it. They didn't make commitments; they had not formed an agreement.
"Hermione, look at me." But she couldn't, she didn't want to see his annoyance at her childish behavior. Finally, he stood and went to the other side of the bed, kneeling on her plush carpet and taking her hands.
"If I were ever going to leave, I would've done so ages ago. I'm not leaving." He kissed her knuckles and then wiped her tears. He knew he had opened the door to their emotions weeks prior, but he hadn't been entirely prepared for her response.
"I don't need more than that, Severus, you don't have to swear to me that you aren't seeing other women or for you to tell me you love me, I just don't want anything to change, I want to know you're two blocks away, annoyed at me stealing your cigarettes and giving Purgo too many treats, I want to wear your shirts and smell like you. I can't believe you're in my flat." An odd look crossed his face, like he hadn't expected those words to leave her lips.
"You're happy with things they way they are?" He asked in true sincerity.
"I won't ask for more than we have." Shyly, she replied, wondering what he was thinking.
"I wouldn't mind something marginally different, if you were agreeable." Hermione arched her brow and studied his face, wondering what he was going to say.
"What do you have in mind?" But he seemed lost, unable to say aloud what he wanted. He returned to his side of the bed, propping his head in his hand and looking down at her.
"As though I'm seeing other women, seriously?" Thinking out loud, Hermione almost laughed.
"We've literally never had a conversation about this, you know. I don't know what you do when I'm not around, you could be sexing half of York, not that I can say anything about it, we've never made claims on each other."
"You've been cavorting with other men?" Hermione laughed for real then, seeing the dismay written clearly across his face.
"Of course not, I'm a singular gal, but you are you."
"Do you have such a low opinion of me?" He sounded angry and annoyed as she rolled to face him directly.
"No, of course not, I hold you in the highest esteem, Severus." Her answer assuaged him and gave him the last push he needed to finally say what he wanted.
"Hermione, I want exclusivity and for you to think of me when you get yourself hurt, to help you."
"I did think of you, just worried you'd think me daft for owling you from the hospital like a ninny."
"You aren't a ninny, insufferable often enough, though." He bent to kiss her, trying not to pull her too hard against him due to her extensive bruising.
"I've been exclusively yours for five years, you know, even if you never said the words." He pushed some curls behind her ears, letting her orange and cranberry shampoo fill his nostrils as he leaned in for another kiss.
"Bloody romantic, you are." He teased, unprepared for the jab to his rib. "Wait until you're healed, I'll get you back for that one." The breath knocked out of him, he plumped a pillow and stared into her eyes, always so expressive.
"I am not ashamed of caring and I never will be, don't try to change me Severus Snape." Her eyes started to close, the calming drought hitting her hard as they lay still.
"I wouldn't dare, but maybe you'd be agreeable to letting me see you more often." Her eyes snapped open, he'd never mentioned the time they spent together, either. What had happened to him?
"Of course, I'm always happy to be with you, but Severus, can I ask where this is coming from? We've gone through the same motions for five years, not that I'm complaining, I thoroughly enjoy drinking, reading, and shagging, but what was has happened?" Hermione rubbed her eye and took his hand, noting the trepidation in his eyes. Many minutes passed before he finally spoke.
"Last time, something just jarred me awake, like I'd been asleep for ages. Maybe it was seeing your scar, admitting what we've been through. I'm not content to simply live going through the motions...I…" He paused and kissed her tenderly, finding it difficult to say such things aloud. "I don't want to leave any doubt with you; you should know that I am devoted to you, even if we've never spoken those words before, I've said them now." Hermione's cheeks blushed red and she listened to him, surprised by his words and demeanor, a man she never thought she'd ever know in such a way.
"I think I've known for a while that if you were to leave, I'd be lost." He continued, loving the way her face lit up as he spoke.
"So, you'd like to see me more often, huh?" Teasing him, Hermione played with the hem of his undershirt.
"Well not if you're going to be cheeky about it."
"Fine, no more teasing. Come here." Her hand pulled his chin closer to her, the pain of stretching to him too much. "Can you be gentle?" She asked, putting her hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and smacking his bum lightly and smirking at him.
"I've proven I can, vixen." And he made love to Hermione for the second time, being far more gentle than he had the time before and almost getting Hermione to lose herself completely to him, almost uttering the 'L' word as he came in her, but knowing that even if she never said it, he knew she loved him.
"Severus?"
"Yes, HG?" She was leaning against him in her garden tub, filled to the hilt with hot water and a smattering of bubbles.
"What if we found a flat that suited both of us, where we'd still have space if we needed it? I work in London all day, I wouldn't be around too much in the evenings just for dinner and sleeping, we'd still really only see each other on the weekends. Would that be something you'd be interested in." He stilled the washing of her hair, before rinsing it and pulling her close.
"I'll contact my landlord, he has two other properties, we'll look at those first." She turned and blew bubbles at him. "You're lucky you're injured or there would be no escaping my wrath." For a moment he looked rather serious, but softened as her lips met his and he melted around her, wondering how he'd ended up with her in York at all. It was either serendipity or twisted fate, he couldn't decide, but he was happy to see what lay in store for them, even if it meant more of the same. A rather peaceful and easy life existed for them in York, one he wasn't willing to trade for the world.