A/N: Happy New Year! Here is a short, muti-chapter fluffy little story for the start of 2012. The plan is to have it completely posted before I return to work on January 3. I hope you enjoy!

As always, reviews are most welcomed and appreciated. And they help fuel the muse, you know.

Anti-litigation Charm: I solemnly swear to return the characters intact and a little less worse for wear to the wonderful JK Rowlings and the publishers of the books. I use them for entertainment purposes only.

CHAPTER ONE

Just Another Auld Lang Syne

He glared at his reflection in the mirror, daring the white slip of silk to argue with his fingers as they transformed it into the perfect wings of the blasted bow tie his new dress robes required. "I still don't know why my old robes wouldn't suffice. They've served me quite well since -"

"Our wedding three and a half years ago," she finished for him. She knew by the twinkling mixture of amusement and reproach she'd finally succeeded in making her tone an immaculate, if somewhat sarcastic representation of his own. She sauntered up to him, using the silvery surface attached to the back of their wardrobe's door to almost lose herself in the fathomless depths of his eyes. "And you've worn them to every formal social occasion since. Including the last three Ministry New Years' balls." Standing behind him, she reached around his broad shoulders and tweaked the tilt of his tie until it was perfectly straight. Merlin, but he grew more handsome with each passing year. "Which is why you needed something new, sweetheart." She brushed a bit of lint from the rich black brocade. "They were beginning to look rather grey."

The flash of impishness in his obsidian orbs sent a delightful shiver slithering toward her toes. "This from the woman who constantly badgers to add a little color to my choice of attire."

He turned with such speed and elegance he had her in his arms cradled against his chest before she could consider escape. Her tiny shriek so delayed, it took up residence in his mouth before it escaped mingled with her soft groan of appreciation at the talent of his teeth and tongue. When he eased away enough for her to see his half-smile, it was all she could do to keep her irritation in place. "I didn't mean a different shade of the same monochrome, Severus." She wiped the smudge of lipstick from his lips with the pad of her thumb. "Besides, they were looking a little threadbare."

"Perhaps that was by design, Hermione." The way he drawled her name was more powerful than any Jelly-Legs jinx. His hands crept along the folds of her deep forest robes until his thumbs brushed the sides of her distended abdomen. "Perhaps it was all a plot to derail tonight's outing." He leaned toward her until her belly pressed against his and his breath caressed the shell of her ear. "Keep you home where we could have our own...private celebration."

She wound her arms around his neck and nuzzled his chin with her nose. "Who says we can't do both." She kissed the edge of his jaw then rested her cheek against his chest. "Though why you'd want to engage in any...amorous activities with a whale in human form -"

His kiss was swift. Gentle yet almost demanding. It was like offering a drink to one staggering into an oasis after days lost in the Saharan sand. When he started to ease away, she followed, her lips bumping his in an erratic rhythm meant to lure him back. Ensnare his senses until he gave into his passion and swept her along with him.

As always, his restraint proved far stronger than hers. With a brush of his lips to each corner of her mouth, he rested his forehead against hers, his breathing much more even than her own ragged consumption of air. "You are beautiful, dear one," he whispered. Palms alternating with fingertips, he caressed the swell protecting their unborn child. "Even more so with our love blooming in your womb." His nose nuzzled her cheek and she was ready to abandon the evening's plans. After all, if Minerva could organize the day-to-day operations of a school the size of Hogwarts, she could surely handle something as insignificant as this annual function. "If I were but able, I would keep your belly filled with my children for decades to come." His lips ghosted against her throat and she all but shattered. "I will desire you always, my dearest witch." He pressed his hips against her, his assurance evident. "Always."

Clinging to him, she whimpered. Tension oozed through the dark silken wool and she instantly regretted the small sound she'd allowed to escape. Although a little more than a month still loomed between tonight and delivery, her husband was anxious. Protective to a point it was almost suffocating despite Healer Muggins' assurances that things were progressing normally in a healthy, uncomplicated and uneventful pregnancy. Not that she blamed the man. After everything he'd been through. Everything he'd lost, she wouldn't have blamed if he'd placed her in a protective cocoon from the moment of conception. After all, if the roles were reversed, that's exactly what she would do. Almost losing him in those first few hours after the final battle and then again at various other periods of his recovery, she understood well the gnawing need to keep the one you treasured beyond all others safe. Regardless of the consequences.

Cupping his face in her hands, she met his worried gaze. Tried to convey everything words never could as she allowed those obsidian depths to fill her mind. "I'm fine, sweetheart." She pecked his lips. "I promise you, I'm just fine."

"Perhaps we should forego the party tonight." All teasing and innuendos vanished as he caught a wisp of hair she'd left unfettered to dangle at her temple and coiled it around his finger. "I'm sure Minerva and the others would understand."

While the idea of staying home instead of trouncing about London and other destinations for the next several hours in a rather constrictive form of dress and heels that were rapidly becoming twin torture devices on her feet held merit - especially if she could coax him back to the amorous man he was mere moments ago - she simply couldn't allow fear to rule their lives. It had done far too much of that in the recent past and she refused to allow it to consume their present or their future. Besides, tonight could very well be their last social outing for some time.

"They would." Agreeing with the potions master was the easiest way to wheedle him around to her side of the argument. "But since she was the one to arrange the Hogwarts Express for the bulk of tonight's activities simply because it keeps me from having to floo or fly, it would be bad form not to show."

Storm clouds gathered over the twin black seas. "Hermione -"

She pressed her lips back to his, swallowing his objection as she urged the passion to return. She grinned when she felt his arms tighten around her, dragging her impossibly close given the layers of fabric and lace separating them. Perhaps she was part Siren after all. "I'm fine, Severus." She trailed her lips along his jaw, his low groan coursing through her like liquid heat. "Minerva has taken precautions should something unexpected happen." She leaned back against his arms, searching and beseeching with gentle sweeps of her eyes across his face. "She has a foolproof plan to get us off the train and to the Infirmary or St. Mungo's should the need arise."

Not even the skilled Occlumens could cover the brooding darkness that crossed his features. "No plan is infallible, love." A tremble of sadness touched his chin. "And if something should happen to you -"

Shaking her head, she pressed her fingers to his lips. "Nothing is going to happen." She blinked away her own tears and offered him the cheekiest smile in her arsenal. "Because Professor." She tweaked his nose. "You simply won't allow it." His shy smile made her heart leap. "Besides." She stepped away from him and smoothed the lapels of his robe. "I want to go. If for no other reason than to drive Parvati, Padma and Lavender stark raving mad with jealousy when I arrive on the arm of the handsomest wizard in attendance."

Severus snorted. "I highly doubt that, Madame Snape." Although the light of amusement faltered in his eyes, he offered his arm, his smile steadfast. "However, I must say the image of making others jealous when I arrive with the most attractive witch of any age on my arm is rather appealing."

The air shifted in the room, becoming thick and melancholy as he studied her. Fear radiated from somewhere deep in his core and penetrated her soul. It had been a number of months since she'd seen him this somber. The night after she presented him with the positive test results from Poppy when she'd noted a smear of blood on her knickers. They'd both panicked until the no-nonsense mediwitch blustered into the room and told them it was normal especially for first pregnancies. That the baby was fine and so was the mother. 'Merlin's beard but you two are as nervous as a Mandrake in a room full of Dugbogs. Gird your loins, children. Parenthood isn't for the faint of heart.' And though the woman's words were as effective as a calming draught, it was weeks before Severus smiled again. Nearly a month before anything more than a slight chortle escaped in mirth. She would do anything to keep him from disappearing back into that kind of darkness.

"Promise me we will leave at the first sign of anything, Hermione." His eyes bored into hers, pleading for her compliance. "Promise me."

She touched his cheek, her eyes growing dewy and her smile gentle, warm and full of assurance. "Always, sweetheart. Always."