CHAPTER THREE

Avoiding Trouble

There was another twinge as Hermione twisted to exit their car. Try as she might, she couldn't manage to keep the grimace from burrowing across her brow or from the slight hitch in her breathing. Before she could blink, Severus was standing between her and the opened passenger door, his face contorted into a scowl of concern. Forcing the furrows from her brow and pushing an assuring smile to her lips, she touched his arm. "Just sat for too long, sweetheart. Stop worrying."

Although his frown softened into the neutral lines of a master Occlumens, his black eyes were plumbed to the depths with worry. "It's not too late to return home, love." He squatted in the small space between the door and the Audi's grey interior. "Perhaps let you walk around for a bit then -"

She brushed his cheek as she swept away the fringes of dark hair that threatened to fall into his eyes. "I'm fine, Severus." Carefully not to kick him as she moved her feet from the foot well to the ground between his, she managed to move him back enough to exit the restrictive passenger compartment. She wobbled slightly but, with his arm as leverage, she regained her balance. "Besides, we are here now. No sense getting back into that chaos." She nodded toward the tangle of automobiles clogging the street.

"We could always -"

Taking his hand, she squeezed gently then entwined their fingers. "We could. But I don't want to." With a small tug, she started him toward the hidden entryway that allowed them access to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters without having to go through the public barrier. "It's just the annual Ministry New Years' Eve ball, Severus. What could possibly go wrong?"

Far too much, his traitorous mind whispered. Voldemort may be more than five years vanquished - the remnants of the Death Eaters moldering in Azkaban. But there were still those out there who resented his redemption. Envied his bride for her intellect and skill. Witches and wizards who would like nothing more than to shake them both from a perceived pedestal they never intended to be placed upon. Then there was the sullen weather itself to consider. Northern Scotland's skies could be irritable enough in the best of seasons. Given the severity of the winter...

"Ah. There you are." Although Lucius had declared his loyalty to the Light and served his two years-long sentence in Azkaban without so much as a whimper, Severus was wary of the man. He'd seen too much of the arrogant wizard's manipulations to ever put much faith in any last minute conversion. "May I say you are looking particularly stunning tonight, Madame Snape." He took her hand and drew it to his lips, oblivious to the slight shiver of disgust.

The way Malfoy's icy grey eyes danced over Hermione, lust flaring as they devoured the soft curves hinted at by the folds of dark green fabric sparked the possessiveness Severus fought so hard to conceal when in the presence of all but a select few. Abandoning his wife's hand for her waist, he pulled her close. Enveloped her as much as humanly possible as he tried to hide her away from the pureblood's smug gaze.

Thankfully, his spitfire of a bride accepted his need to quell her independence for the moment. He could feel her mistrust building on his own. "Thank you, Lord Malfoy." The words might have been meant for the wizard in the silver robes, but her eyes were riveted to his own, undulating with enough adoration and love to call the stability of his knees into question. "Severus picked them out for me. And I think he did a splendid job."

"Indeed." Lucius' nostrils flared for a moment, the disdain fleeting but present in the chilly blue depths. "Then allow me to congratulate you on your taste in witch's fashion, Professor."

Although he abhorred male posturing, Severus would make an exception for the Slytherin poster boy. Curling his lips in his best personification of smugness, he glowered at his rival. "No congratulations are required, Lucius." He danced his eyes over his wife, desire swirling into a minor storm somewhere in his core. "When one knows one's bondmate with the level of intimacy I'm blessed to share with Hermione." He slid his thumb along the side of her belly, loving the bloom of color on her cheeks while praying she didn't skewer him with the nearest sharp object once they were safely ensconced in the private rail carriage Minerva promised to provide for Hermione's comfort. "Perfection of choice is the expected outcome."

"Yes."

The green smear tinting Lucius' impeccable drawl was worth whatever punishment the Gryffindor beauty might exact. The pompous sycophant twisted his neck in an almost reptilian-like manner reminiscent of his former master, making Severus' hair stand uncomfortably along his neck and the jagged scar pinch. Ever attuned to his mood, Hermione slipped her hand beneath his traveling cloak and pressed soothing fingers into the hollow of his spine. Perhaps she wasn't as upset with his actions as he feared.

"If only we all could be so...lucky." The trademark Malfoy purr dripped with contempt urging Severus to tighten his grip on his wife. Steel eyes darted from side to side until the braggart found his escape in some other unsuspecting quarry in the gathering crowd of officials and other members of the elite. "Now. If you will excuse me, I believe the Ministers have arrived." With a stiff nod, he strode toward the other side of the car park and the line of government issued black Bentleys.

Relief spread through him like a tumbler of aged Ogden's. Not giving Hermione a chance to protest or berate him within the considerable range of hearing all Malfoys seemed in possession of, he led her toward the privacy of the deserted entryway. Only when they were safely within the shadows did he turn, the apology rising to his eyes more quickly than the words could line up on his tongue. "Hermione. I'm -"

Familiar, luscious and warm lips pressed against his, stealing his words as she eased her tongue into the gap the unvoiced syllables left. Leaning against the chilly brick wall for support, he pulled her close. Silenced the nagging voice that urged him to keep his passions masked from the public eye and transformed her tender exploration into heated plunder. When the necessity to breathe nudged them apart, he rested his head against her and drew in the intoxicating fragrant blend of orange blossoms, vanilla and essence of Granger. "Dear one -"

Her fingers pressed against his mouth. "Don't apologize, Severus." Golden brown eyes twinkled up at him. "While I might insist on independence in certain aspects of life, when it comes to you, I am a willing slave." She snuggled back into his embrace, their child stirring between them. "I want the world to know that I belong to you, sweetheart. Heart, mind, body and soul." Her lips quirked into a tiny imitation of his smirk. "As long as you allow me to return the favor."

"Always, darling." He feathered his lips against her temple, his heart expanding painfully against the confines of his chest. "Always.