Chapter 11

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, EXPLAIN YOURSELVES THIS INSTANT."

Harry had the grace to look contrite. Neville, who was greatly regretting his decision to eavesdrop and who Hermione was currently ignoring, was hoping desperately to melt into the wall. Ron, however, puffed out his chest and prepared to do battle.

"Expl- explain ourselves?!" he exploded, his face a brilliant shade of scarlet. "I think you need to explain yourself!"

"I owe you no such thing," she snarled back. "You lot, however, were listening in on a private conversation!" She leveled Neville with a baleful stare. "From these two I expected as much. From you, I expected better."

The boy blushed. He had grown a lot over the years and truly come into his own, but staring down a livid Hermione Granger was still a bit beyond his capability. She had been his first champion, standing up for him and encouraging the talent she saw in him from the moment they had met on the train and he didn't know if he would ever be able to face her down. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Snape?" Ron hissed, drawing her attention back to himself.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." Her tone was firm, her face daring them to argue.

"It bloody well is my business!" he snarled back. "You were mine when you left."

She could feel her blood starting to boil. "Yours? Yours, Ronald? I am not a possession and we were not in a relationship," she retorted sharply.

Harry spoke up finally. "But Hermione… why?"

She paused, considering what she should tell them. "He saved me, Harry. And I saved him too. He nearly died." She took a deep breath, pushing the image of his mangled torso from her mind. "He's good to me."

Ron snorted. "He's brainwashed you, you mean."

She turned a glare on him that could melt glass. "Do you think that I am so feeble-minded that I would swoon at the feet of any man who looks my way?"

"You sure didn't swoon at mine," he muttered angrily.

"Don't be a child," she snapped at him, "throwing a fit because you didn't get your way."

"I'm throwing a fit because he's using you."

She huffed. "For what, exactly?"

Ron sneered at her, an expression which was entirely unsuited to his face – Severus did it much better. "He just wants to get you into bed, Hermione."

She barely restrained herself from hurling back an answer that she did not wish to share. Oh, but to see the look on his face if she told him that Severus had already had her there. She was nearly tempted to do it, simply for the pleasure of watching his triumphant expression crumble. "And why is that?" she asked, her tone going soft. From the corner of her eye, she saw Neville edge farther away from her. Smart boy.

Oblivious to the brewing storm, Ron continued. "Well, what else could he want?"

"Because there's no way that he would actually want me, right Ronald?"

His eyes widened. "Hermione, no, I didn't mean-"

"Talk some sense into him before I strangle him with my bare hands," she growled at Harry before she stormed up the stairs to her room.

Severus, still standing in the kitchen, waited until their footsteps had receded before making his way to the front porch and apparating away.

oOo

She was curled in her usual armchair by the fire when she felt his presence. Setting aside her book, she looked up to see him sitting on the couch across from her and watching her with what she could almost call nerves. She smiled softly at him. "Severus," she greeted.

He swallowed thickly. "If you're sure that it's – that I – am really what you want, I can't refuse you."

"I'm sure," she assured him evenly. She crossed the space between them and sat down at his side. Pulling her feet up onto the couch, she curled into his side, biting her lip against a smile when his arm came around her. She sat silently for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his warmth against her. "Does this make you my boyfriend?" she asked lightly, knowing just where to poke him.

He grimaced. "I am not a teenager, Hermione."

She laughed. "Thank Merlin for that." She reached over to thread her fingers through his where they rested on her waist. "Where did you go today?" If he had been fighting his way through Death Eaters to get into his home, he sure didn't look it.

"Hogwarts." She looked up at him in surprise and he continued. "Under my cloak, naturally. I needed to speak with Minerva." He could feel her unspoken question. Sighing, he ran his free hand through his hair. "I… wasn't certain what I should do," he admitted. It had surely been an uncomfortable visit, wherein he had had to grudgingly inform the woman of what had transpired, but he had needed the insight of his old friend. He had felt too close to the subject to make a proper decision. She had instructed him in no uncertain terms that he was to "march over to her this moment take his chance at what made him happy for once in his bloody life."

She turned in his grip, moving to face him while dropping her knees on either side of him. Straddling his lap, she kissed him soundly. "I'm glad you came back," she murmured into his lips.

"Hermione, you were injured today," he objected firmly.

She nodded. "I know. I promise I'll rest. I just like kissing you," she said coyly.

He willed himself not to blush. Body, don't you dare betray me, he groaned inwardly. "This also may not be the most… appropriate… location for such things."

"The boys know I chose you."

He smirked. "I know." He watched as her eyebrows drew together, the cogs turning hard before clicking into place.

"Oh, right. Sorry," she apologized with a twisted smile.

"Still though," he continued, "I… would not like for anyone to walk in."

She shrugged, gathering that he was uncomfortable with the public display, and crawled off his lap. "Come along then." Without waiting for an answer, she began to walk out of the library. Obediently he followed.

From the kitchen, a ginger-haired head poked out of the doorway. "Hermione," Ron called. His eyes locked with Severus's and his eyes widened.

Hermione growled deep in her throat and snapped, "Not now, Ronald."

Severus threw the boy a dark look before stepping up onto the stairs after his witch. He caught a glance of the boy's mouth opening and closing wordlessly before turning his back on him. She led him to the second floor landing, where she crossed the hall to the third door on the left. He stepped through the doorway, shutting the door behind himself. He had hardly locked the thing before she had thrown herself at him, lips, teeth, and tongue playing across his neck. Groaning, it took a moment for him to gather his wits.

"Hermione," he said gently, running his hands down her sides, "Merlin, you have no idea how much I want this but you were injured today and you need to rest. You promised that you would," he reminded her. "Not tonight."

She pulled back, her face nearly a pout. "Fine then, but you're staying with me." He nodded and she tugged at his coat. "This is going to have to go if you want me to let you into my bed, you know."

The shadow of a smile pulled at the corner of his lip. He shrugged out of the coat as she asked and with a wave of his hand, it hung itself on the back of a chair in the corner of the room. Her hands went to the buttons at his collar.

"This as well."

He did not assist her with removing his shirt, as, for some reason, she seemed to enjoy battling with the buttons. He had to admit that he enjoyed watching her fiddling with them as well. It cast his mind toward things… that would not be happening tonight. The circumstances surrounding the first time had been ridiculous and frankly disturbing. He would not be rushing a damn thing this time. She deserved to be treated right, and to allow her to jump him tonight, as she so clearly wanted to do, would not be treating her right. Her body had been subjected to an incredibly dark and painful curse today and he had no intentions of straining it. He shrugged the garment from his shoulders when she finished with his buttons and reached to undo his belt. That was territory he didn't think he should let her venture into in her current state. He sent that, too, to the chair. She was staring at him almost hungrily, but with a smirk in her direction, he waved his hand down his front and his trousers transfigured themselves into a light pair of sleeping pants.

She rolled her eyes with a laugh and turned away from him to go dig in her closet. He strode toward the bed and slid on top of the blanket, stretching out and staring up at the ceiling. Watching her change clothes felt invasive, somehow. He wasn't sure that their new relationship warranted such a thing. For his part, she had seen his bare torso many a time and he was no longer self-conscious about it. He, however, had seen her body only once and he wasn't sure how much that counted now. He felt the bed dip and turned his head to see her climbing up beside him. She wore a loose tank top and a pair of baggy shorts. She was biting her lip and he could feel the tension from her. He held out an arm and she broke out in a smile as she burrowed against his side. Her head dropped against his shoulder and she took in a deep breath of him.

She could hear his heart beating like a drum against her cheek and for some reason it felt odd to her. Obviously he had a heart. She felt ridiculous even thinking such a thing. He was a human being, after all. But he was… more. He was almost a super hero. Albeit a dark, brooding, sarcastic one who had made some questionable choices in his past and murdered innocents to keep his cover. She threaded one leg over his, tucking her foot beneath his other shin. She almost couldn't believe that he was here. She had hoped, of course, but she had not been nearly as sure as she had pretended to be. But now, here he was in her bed of his own free will. No Dark Lord hovering in the corner, no orders looming.

"Ronald is going to have a cow when you're still here in the morning," she observed.

His arm tightened on her instinctively. "I do not give a fuck what Weasley is going to have."

She grinned, craning her neck to meet his gaze. "I don't suppose you could give me 'just shagged' hair before breakfast?"

His body instantly reacted but he did his best to keep his voice level. The sudden heat in eyes gave him away though, as he calmly stated, "I'll see what I can do." Merlin, it was going to be a long night.

A/N: I'm going to go ahead and clear up the questions I'm sure I'll be getting. Severus killed Dumbledore. However, the Order knows the truth and still trusts him (with obvious exceptions). The trio did not go on the run. Instead they teamed up with Ginny and Neville and are working out of Grimmauld Place.