Halllloooooo everyone! Ready for the new chapter? Yes? Well then its a good thing its right here! There is a little hint of the lemon to come here, so don't worry, I promise its on its way! Patience, grasshopper ; ) Also, the next chapters are up on youtube as well for the audio book, so go take a listen! Don't forget to review, as those wonderful words from you all make my day! Happy Reading!

8

That evening that they spent cuddled together on the couch changed something in their relationship. They had broken the touch barrier. After that, there was still the silent thrill for both of them when they touched, but now it felt natural. Easy. There was no tension when their knees brushed together at dinner. Severus would touch her shoulder or stroke the back of her head lightly to get her attention rather than say her name. And Hermione had taken to giving him those innocent kisses on the cheek before she went to bed at night and when she came out to get her tea in the morning. They developed a routine that was simple and effortless. Severus rose and made tea for the four of them. Crooks and Brew shared a saucer. Hermione would come out of her bedroom dressed and ready for the day. She would peck Severus on the cheek and take the mug he had ready for her. They usually shared their tea in companionable silence, each engrossed in thoughts of the coming day. Occasionally Hermione would sit on the counter top and they would discuss any plans for the day or what they were having for dinner.

Hermoine recalled with fond memory the first time Severus had seen her sit on the counter. She would never forget the look on his face when she had hopped up and seated herself on the smooth, polished surface.

"There are stools available, if you wish to sit," he'd commented with no small amount of sarcasm.

"Ah yes, but then this lovely stretch of counter would go to waste, and we can't have that. I hate waste," she said with a mischievous smile. Severus rolled his eyes at her. Yes, Severus Snape rolled his eyes at her. She giggled.

"I fail to see the appeal of being seated upon the counter."

"Well, Sev, that's because you've never sat on a counter," she quipped.

"How do you know?" he demanded.

"Oh I am certain those cheeks have never graced a counter top. I can tell." She grinned when Severus nearly choked on the mouthful of tea he'd just taken. She was also certain that he'd never heard anyone refer to his behind as his 'cheeks' before. But she kept that to herself. "Give it a try," she said coaxingly, patting the spot on the counter beside her. Severus recovered himself and gave her a very incredulous one brow raised look.

"Certainly not." His tone had a ring of finality. But ten minutes later, after much wheedling and cajoling from Hermione, Severus set his mug carefully down on the counter and attempted to gracefully seat himself next to her. His long legs brought him higher than her so he didn't have to hop the way she did to reach the surface, but he found there was no tasteful way to get a solid seat on the counter. He ended up bracing his arms on the counter behind him, going up on the ball of one foot and lifting himself. His other leg swung up as he did so. When he finally seated himself he reflected that he must have looked like a grasshopper trying to do a jig. Determined to regain his composure, he grabbed his mug and took a very dainty sip of tea, looking loftily over the rim of the mug at Hermione.

She laughed so hard she fell off the counter.

As the days passed, they gravitated from a distant acquaintanceship to a full and close friendship. Severus had started to forgo his long black robes and wore his hair back almost every day. He didn't even complain when Hermione would roll up his sleeves over his forearms. They could go out for breakfast on mornings over the weekend and eat at the little bakery around the corner. Severus never admitted to her that he'd not known the name of the pastry he'd ordered the first time they had gone, but he quickly memorized the names of each item offered by the bakery and developed a strong love of turnovers and cranberry muffins but an equally strong hatred of bagels. Hermione laughed every time he called them 'waxy bread rings.'

Severus spent his days looking for the answer to the low birthrates and Hermione continued her work at the ministry. In the evenings they would curl up together on the couch and read. Crookshanks and Brew had adopted the wingback chair and were frequently found sleeping there in a pile of black and orange fluff. Sometime in the days that passed, as Hermione and Severus grew closer, so had the kneazels. Brew was always slightly distant with Crooks, and still occasionally hissed at him, but they were always found together during their many naps in the sunshine. And once, Hermione had seen Brew open one eye, make sure Crooks was sleeping, and lick the top of his head sweetly.

Late in the evening, Hermione would start to fall asleep nestled against Severus. Her head would drop against his shoulder and her eyes would flutter closed. Severus always loved listening to her breathing even out as she fell asleep. In her sleep she would press closer to him and smile a slight, sleepy smile. Severus would finish whatever book he was reading and then gently lift her into his arms. He carried her to her door, but never went inside. The room was hers and hers alone. He wouldn't go in even to tuck her into bed. He relished the way her arms would go around him and her face pressed against his neck. At her door he would rub his chin softly against the top of her head and murmur her name until her lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. He would slowly set her on her feet. She would blink up at him with sleep softened eyes, go up on tip toe to kiss his cheek, and then go in to bed.

It was a simple, easy routine that felt right. Like they had always lived together like that. Like they had always made perfect companions. And neither of them had ever been more content. Having Hermione in his home made it just that- a home. She brought light and happiness into his life. She was intelligent enough to hold her own on any topic of conversation he chose to raise. She contrasted him in complimentary ways. And Hermione found herself looking forward to their evenings together. She'd never been with anyone that she could just sit and read with. He didn't mock her soft heart or her somewhat strange feminine quirks as she'd been first afraid he would. He'd even converted to an almost entirely vegetarian diet without so much as batting a lash. How could the man with whom she'd settled into such a peaceful life be the same man who'd called her a know-it-all so many times in school?

She had a hard time reconciling the two men, so she simply stopped trying. She knew the war and his years as a spy had taken their toll on him. She knew that most of the things he'd said and done, while seeming abrasive and sinister on the outside, had been to protect his cover and to protect her and her friends. He was still a short tempered, sarcastic, snide man, but he was never cruel or intentionally hurtful. He was chivalrous without being chauvinistic. He defended those weaker than himself and hated intolerance. He could still be intimidating and a bit of a bully, but Hermione learned to uncover the feelings behind those fronts. He was a deep well of untapped emotion, still water that churned beneath the surface.

Severus knew he was revealing far too much of himself to her, but couldn't stop it. He was drawn to her and she opened him up without him even realizing it. With her, he felt as if all the walls could come down. He didn't need to be the stone faced professor, he didn't need to be the cold hearted spy, he didn't need to be the love sick hero. He could simply be Severus. No pretenses, no lies, no defenses. He found himself smiling and laughing with her. That prickle of pride he'd been feeling for her grew until it was a fierce rush of emotion. After she went into her bedroom at night, he found himself rubbing his chest right over his heart because of the tightness there. Either he was having a heart attack...or he was falling in love with his wife.

He knew the heart attack would be safer and easier to handle. But each time when he didn't fall down gasping and die, he knew that he was in too deep. And he couldn't get out.

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Hermoine's make-shift journal grew as the weeks passed. It became filled with page after page of happy reflection. She sifted through it and smiled as she remembered some of the more amusing entries.

Day fifteen

-has mild dragonfruit allergy.

-is rather cute with a stuffy nose.

-alphabetizes his books... and Harry said I was the only one!

Day twenty three

-made friends with Crooks today

-stated calmly at my astonishment that of course Crooks would like him, as kneazles know instinctively who to trust

-invented several new curse words when told that Crooks had loved Sirius

-listens to classical muggle music in his study. Does he have any other muggle music preferences? Further investigation required...

Day thirty five

-apparently has a well stocked liquor cabinet, saw several bottles of firewhiskey though I have never seen him drink anything stronger than wine.

-has a theory that the birthing problems have come from a blood infection but isn't sure how to prove. Talks so fast when excited that I could hardly understand him. Adorable.

-Possible solution to get the law repealed and give Muggleborns back their rights? Fuck yeah!

-dissolving my union with Severus? ….. ….. don't want to think about that right now.

-heard very impassioned yowling last night. Are there kittens in our future?

She smiled as she read that last one. That had been a week ago. Severus was working harder than ever, convinced that the answer was just within his grasp. While she was excited beyond belief that they might actually get the terrible law repealed, she still didn't want to think about what that would mean for her situation with Severus. She actually liked him. Living with him made her extraordinarily happy. And there was also the matter of the tentative and yet undeniable feelings slowly blossoming for him. Was it that he was constantly saving her? If she was going to fall victim to hero worship, surely she would have fallen for Harry when they were younger. No, this was something else. She felt things for him, just for him being himself. Her heart didn't care that he was already late in his thirties. It didn't care that their marriage wasn't real. It didn't care that he would probably never feel the same way about her. Yes, he had been generous and sweet and uncharacteristically kind to her. But a man like Severus could have any woman he wanted. She knew she wasn't a bad catch, but Severus had been very careful to never make any romantic advances to her.

For the first time, before she fell asleep that night, she wished that this wasn't just a temporary arrangement.

From his own bed that same night, Severus' thoughts mirrored Hermione's so closely that they would have laughed had they known. Severus didn't keep a journal of his days with Hermione but he could recall each of her quirks and eccentricities with perfect clarity. He knew her, inside and out. They were a close as any real married couple could be, even though their relationship was entirely platonic. Yes, he stopped even trying to deny that he got a thrill from holding her in his arms. Yes he could grow aroused simply by the smell of her lingering on his clothes. And yes he had started dreaming of her, romantic, erotic fantasies that played out in his dreams because he wouldn't allow them in his waking hours. He'd woken up more times than he'd care to admit with his muscles tight, his aching cock straining against the bed and desperately seeking relief. He'd even woken up more than once with his hand wrapped tightly around his hard length, Hermione's name on his lips.

On those nights he would set his jaw stubbornly, apply the charm he'd specially engineered to provide instant release- a hollow kind of pleasure that was more relief than release- and then dump the memories of the dream into the Adfectus simply to get the strong emotions of them out of his mind.

The small black bowl was quickly becoming filled with intense fantasies about the lovely little witch that was his wife.

Hehe they are so cute! Ok, so this was a short chapter, so bribe me with reviews and you'll get the next chapter on Wednesday!