Disclaimer: Still don't own these characters
Dedication: To all you Snape/Hermione fans who have shared your wonderful stories. I found a lot of inspiration in your works, and some of it will show through here. Hopefully you still find it at least a little bit original and not too cliche. xoxox - slash
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Chapter Two: Repeal
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It took just over a year of marriage before he called her Mion outside of the bedroom, but even after two, he still used the endearment sparingly and never in front of another soul. Nor did she speak of it even when Ginny begged for details pertaining to the quiet private life the Snape's had settled into. Ginny nodded sympathetically when Hermione told her it was unequivocally private, that he was unequivocally private.
The morning young Mrs. Potter came for an impromptu visit after breakfast, Severus sat in the adjoining study and had just opened The Daily Prophet and caught the headline that was sure to have brought the redheaded interloper screeching to his wife's side.
"Marriage Law Repealed?" it questioned in bold letters.
Ginny hastily condensed the information The Prophet had to offer, as well as insights from her father and brothers who worked for the Ministry of Magic. Apparently a hearing to repeal the law was being held today and there was at least a 50 percent chance that judgment would be in favor of repeal. There were a few swing votes that seemed unable to ignore the number of 'successful' couples created as well as the population explosion that came along with them. But, all in all, it looked like at least those who had been forced by the law to marry would be granted the right to petition for divorce as soon as tomorrow.
"Finally!" Ginny squealed excitedly, grasping Hermione's hand, "it will all be done with soon, and everyone who was hurt by this law will be able to get their lives back." At this, she looked at Hermione meaningfully. Hermione looked up to get Severus' reaction only see the tail end of his robes billowing out the door to his lab.
"Well?" Ginny grinned.
"Well what?" Hermione asked, forcing her trembling fingers into submission as she prepared another cup of tea.
"Well, Ron can't wait to divorce Lavender," Ginny insinuated.
"I thought she was pregnant?" Hermione added nonplussed.
"Nope. False alarm!" Ginny answered cheerily.
"Oh," Hermione replied, "how odd. She seemed so sure when Severus and I saw her last week in Diagon Ally."
Ginny snorted, "Well, she would say that to you, especially last week when we first heard the law was headed toward the chopping block. She'd do anything to keep her little 'Ronnikins.' We can't wait to be rid of her."
Hermione frowned. She had never liked Lavender much at school and seethed with rage when the ministry paired her with Ron after she had been shipped off to Spinners End to marry Snape, but it was still disheartening that Lavender was being tossed out by the Weasley's like yesterdays trash after spending the past two years trying to carve out a life with them.
Then she considered what Severus must be thinking. Of course he expected her to run from him as fast as she could. And he had told her a least a hundred times that he longed for the day.
She recalled how he spent the first three weeks of their unwanted marriage ignoring her completely except on Saturday night when he would come to her bed for a frenzied coupling, then leave her alone to cool in sweaty sheets. Months later, even as they merged their days together smoothly, Saturday nights remained awkward at first. His groping hands moved mechanically over her stiff body. He would eventually lower his face between her thighs and lick her until she was wet enough to penetrate. Sometimes she came, sometimes she didn't. He didn't seem to care either way. But she did.
Six months into their marriage she turned their whole arrangement on its ear the night she followed him to his bed and demanded a more satisfying encore performance. He acted angry and completely disinterested even as his boxers tented declaring his arousal over her forward behavior. She climbed into his bed, spread her thighs wantonly, and touched herself, insinuating that he wasn't man enough to finish her and she'd have to do the job herself. That night he took her over the edge and beyond, over and over until they drifted to sleep curled around one another. In the morning, she smiled upon waking, tangled in his arms and said, "I like sleeping in your bed."
Perhaps it was the momentary confusion one has between dreams and consciousness. Perhaps it was the continued afterglow from the first night of true passion they had shared. Or, Perhaps he was finally ready to let her in, just a little.
"I like you sleeping in my bed," he replied sleepily into her hair.
At that, she snuggled in tighter and sighed pleasantly. A rather ordinary day followed and he prepared himself for the return to their usual routine as he climbed into bed, but then she boldly reentered his room like she owned the place and reclaimed her place at his side. He stiffened at first, but said nothing as she tucked herself under his arm and laid her head on his chest. In the nights afterward he learned to expect her, to roll with her when she changed position, and how much she enjoyed sex while spooning in the early hours of the morning.
Presently, Ginny stared at her expectantly. Hermione gave the younger woman a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and nodded in agreement. To what, she had no idea. Ginny was pleased, nonetheless. Hermione quickly changed the subject to Harry, and after a few minutes of chattering about Ginny's husband, said green-eyed super-lover poked his messy head through the floo and requested that his adoring wife return home to help with the baby. Hermione did her best to hide her relief as Ginny departed.
She needed time to think.
Alone.