AN: Thanks again to the star of betas LumosLyra, whose work makes these scribbles readable. Any mistakes are, of course, my own, since I do keep tinkering after I get it back!

Thank you for all the reviews. I agree that Molly is awful. She's based on a woman in my life whose only desire is to be in the middle of whatever gossip or tragedy is unfolding, and who will cause drama if none is readily available. Although my Molly would have rung Hermione's parents herself and without Potter's do-gooding side to explain it!

Not mine, no money.

The train was vibrating as it charged northwards and Severus could feel his creaking joints complaining already. They'd only been onboard for an hour, his lady wife and he, and already he was regretting their decision - his decision, really - to bow to her fears and take ground transportation.

She'd turned as white as a sheet when he'd suggested they fly there.

He'd thought they could spend the train ride getting to know one another and had booked them a little compartment of their very own. He even went so far as to overlay the existing network of privacy charms with a Muffliato as well, only to have her instantly pull out a large book and begin flicking through the pages.

Tapping his fingers on his knee and then on the table, he stared with discontent out of the window, discreetly studying his wife's reflection in the dirty glass. He could feel his worry over the Malfoy boy eating at him, and if she didn't start providing a distraction soon he was going to be forced back to London. Even if there was nothing he could add there, at least he'd be closer if they did find him...

Finally, he sighed, leaned back onto the vibrating and uncomfortable chair and blatantly stared at her. As if she could feel the weight of his eyes upon her, she looked up from the pages of her book and smiled widely.

Insolence.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" She asked lightly, placing a torn slip of notepaper between the pages of the tome and closing it with a thump. Severus refused to even glance at the now closed book, churlishly resisting his own curiosity to know what she was reading.

"No." Unable to curtain his reaction, he turned his cantankerous gaze away from her, fully aware of the fact that he was sulking and that he was doing it to get a rise out of her. He crossed his arms over his chest. "But it is at least passably better than our wedding."

She laughed, a delightful, little tinkling sound, and placed her hands together primly on top of her book. She had her full attention fixed on him, her eyes serious and focused.

"Why didn't you invite any friends?" She asked, gazing at him intently as though she were studying him in return.

His lips twitched. "I did actually. I invited the Dark Lord."

He tilted his head down and glanced up from between the curtains of his hair to see her mouth fall open, a startled splutter escaping it. "Did you really?" She whispered in disbelief.

"Yes," he said, letting silence fall over the carriage. If everyone else was going to judge him, she may as well join their fold. It would teach her not to trust him, making it easier for her when his crimes finally came to light.

"Go on." She urged, her smile impish. "Explain it to me."

With a sign, he raised his wand and cast a stronger Muffliato, making the air around them crackle softly. Hermione winced and massaged an ear - he'd forgotten that side effect.

"Sorry." He said sheepishly.

She merely smiled and dismissed the apology with a casual wave of her hand. "It's alri-" she started, before exclaiming. "Oh, it's like talking underwater! My voice sounds so different!" She tapped the table lightly with a fist and listened for the expected thud.

"That's how you know it's working."

"This is so strange." She mused, moving her head in a manner which he assumed would force her ears to equalize the pressure. Her head was strangely tilted when she flashed him a charming grin.

"Yes, well…" He cleared his throat. "If the Dark Lord had been planning to use our wedding as the perfect means of attacking nearly all members of the Order simultaneously, then I would prefer to know in advance. He'd have found out when and where it was to be held from the Ministry records anyway."

Severus watched intently as Hermione twisted a stray curl around her finger in contemplation. As she released it, it sprung back up into a tight, perfect curl.

"Nearly all members? Barely anyone was there. Most of our guests were Weasleys, and while I did invite Remus and Tonks, they..." She trailed off, and Severus could almost see the wheels turning in her head, weaving various facts together.

She gasped, her eyes wide. "Oh."

"Yes, exactly. We couldn't have any more Order members take the risk, but we also couldn't make it seem as though the Order thought an attack was coming." He tried to stretch his long legs out to relieve the tension in his knees, but there was little space underneath the table and he narrowly missed kicking her. She drew her legs up underneath her body and tapped at her lips as she thought, a small furrow appearing between her eyes.

"But if Voldemort had attacked us, we'd have been outnumbered. He would have come expecting the entire Order there."

Severus shrugged. "The Dark Lord assured me he had little interest in jeopardizing my position within the Order, especially not when our ceremony was one where Potter would be protected by half of Wizarding Britain." The crease across her forehead remained. Severus ran his fingers over his chin, searching for the right words to use to make her understand that her safety had been paramount for him. "Nevertheless, Albus was there, despite my personal wishes, and each magical guest had a portkey pinned to them, courtesy of Shacklebolt. Everyone was under strict instructions to grab you or your parents at the first sight of trouble and whisk you away to a safe location."

As he spoke, Hermione's expression grew thunderous. When it was clear he had finished his explanation, her arms crossed. Feeling like an errant schoolboy, Severus shifted nervously in his seat. His usual defence to being accused like this was to show the other person up as a fool, but he had spent a pleasant summer brewing with the chit, and was reluctant to resort to petty jabs and derision.

But if he couldn't goad her into an argument and show that she was being irrational, that meant it was highly likely he'd have to face the fact he'd done something wrong.

Judging by her facial expression he had done something very wrong.

"Everybody else knew? Why the bloody hell didn't you tell me?"

Oh yes. He had completely fucked up.

"Dumbledore didn't-"

"I'm not asking Dumbledore." Her jaw was jutting out defiantly as she glared at him, and he almost felt as though he would catch fire from the anger contained there.

Suddenly, Severus was feeling quite nervous. This hadn't been the reaction he was expecting, although it was entirely lost on him as to what he thought she might say or do. "We didn't want you distracted on your big day," he attempted, adding under his breath. "And it was thought, by some, that your acting skills might not be up to scratch."

"Fuck you." She spat, roughly throwing open her book and pointedly starting to take notes again.

Severus snarled at the blue expanse of water that twinkled merrily at the pair of them as the train skirted a lake. Unsurprisingly, he had already messed up the marriage. He couldn't even decide who was wrong; after all, he had only been trying to protect her, but…

"I ah…" He cleared his throat, determined to be the bigger man. "I apologise."

Her nostrils flared, but she didn't turn back to him, impatiently pushing a stray brown ringlet behind her ear.

"In my defense, I didn't see you until you sprinted up the aisle. There was no way I could have told you anything."

"You wouldn't have anyway." She accused hotly, her quill scratching across the parchment. She wrote so quickly that Severus was amazed the end result was legible, her hand traversed the paper without a single glance as her eyes remained glued to the text.

"Perhaps…" He drawled. He was a spy, for goodness' sake! He couldn't possibly lose his nerve because this twig of a girl was cross with him. Despite his internal pep talk, Severus attempted to defend himself, his voice closer to a whine than he would ever have liked to admit. "But I've told you now."

She looked up at him then. The way her eyes bore into his, she seemed to be weighing his worth. His heart was heavier than a feather - he'd probably sink the whole scale. After what felt like an age, she nodded and pushed the book away from her. "So where were the other Order members?"

"I have no idea." He ran his fingers through his lank hair. "I don't usually get told anything, to be truthful. It's better that way."

"Did you invite any other Death Eaters?" He was surprised her fingers didn't continue to take notes with the way her eyes bored into him. He could imagine just what she might write on the parchment. Severus Snape, Potions Master. Husband. Death Eater. Greasy hair, long fingers, skilled with Dark Magic. Pros: already married. Cons: ...

"No." He made an impatient flick with his fingers as though he were chasing away an errant drop of water. "I didn't think it prudent to issue an invitation when I didn't want them there, though the few I like might have come, had I done so."

"I invited plenty of people I didn't really want there." She pointed out, her head tilted. Molly Weasley being the chief one, he imagined, since she'd invited the rest of the brood. Lavender, too, would hardly have warranted an invitation if she hadn't been bound to Ronald Weasley like a permanent sticking charm. He wondered who else she would have excluded. Perhaps everyone - perhaps she would have rather gone to the Ministry with a witness and completed the ceremony there.

"Yes." He drawled, his tone conveying exactly what he thought of those miscreants she had invited.

Silence seemed to seep into the carriage, though it wasn't uncomfortable. Hermione's breath fogged up the window as she rested her head against the wall, gazing out at the passing countryside.

Severus watched her through his eye lashes in small, darting glances. She had one of her curls in her mouth, and was… chewing on it? That was surprising: he had never seen her chew on her own hair before. He would certainly have noticed - that was a treacherous and idiotic habit if you were brewing. Who knew what sort of dangerous reagents had splashed onto you when you weren't looking?

She was wearing white again today, a linen shirt with full sleeves which seemed to emphasize her delicate wrists with every turn of the page. She was also wearing yoga pants and had taken great care to ensure he knew their name when he had suggested she change out of her pyjamas. Hermione had made the claim that they were more comfortable than jeans, though all Severus knew was that they displayed the lovely rounded shape of his wife's pert behind clearly when she had trapised down the length of the carriage. It had been all he could do to avert his gaze and discreetly reshuffle his clothing to a more comfortable position.

"Thank you for agreeing to come with me." He said, forcing his mind away from the reminder of his wife's sensuous behind. "I know you would much rather stay at Grimmauld Place, but… well..." he trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to put what he was trying to say into words without sounding thoroughly pathetic.

Severus, apparating away from the home of Hermione's parents to give them a moment's privacy with their daughter, had opened the front door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place to see a cluster of Order members, Molly in the middle, whispering intently. While this wasn't terribly unusual - they were, after all, a resistance and most of what they did had to be kept quiet - Order business was usually conducted in an upstairs room with layer upon layer of privacy charms. From the way silence had rippled through the group upon his arrival, it was quite clear exactly who and what they were talking about.

Moody, who had immediately turned on his heel and limped out of the house, growled at Severus in a raspy, abused voice as he approached. "I've never trusted you, boy. Be mindful now. I'll be watching."

Staring down the mad Auror made Severus' skin itch. In defiance, Severus hadn't moved, forcing Alastor to work to pass him. It wasn't lost on him, however, that Moody had done everything in his power to circumvent the austere Potions Master, yanking his robes tightly to himself as he did so. Perhaps he thought a mutual rustle of robes would spread the darkness.

Following that confrontation, Severus needed to be alone; he needed it like water on a blistering summer day. The Malfoys would know where he was if there were any developments in that area, and he'd still be brewing, so even Albus had no hold over him.

"Don't worry, it's nice to have a honeymoon." Hermione stretched her hands upwards, yawned, and then violently twisted to the left. Her back made a sickening, cracking noise. Then, she tilted her head to the side, pressing her ear to her shoulder, and another cracking noise emitted from what Severus assumed were the bones in her neck.

His eyes widened in shock, but his wife kept speaking as though she were not torturing herself. "I didn't want to be in a house with Ron and Harry anyway, not after the way they behaved at the wedding. Honestly, Severus, you'd think we were running off with Hedwig or telling Ron the Cannons had disbanded from the way they reacted. It's utterly ridiculous how emotional and… and hormonal they are."

With a huff, Hermione pushed her hair out of her face again. "I honestly thought this would get better as they grew older, but they are still the impulsive 11-year-olds who refused to be my friend. Who knows what would have happened if Quirrell hadn't needed a Troll? I'm still fairly certain that Harry would buy Ron an entire cart-load of candy just to watch him eat it. That's what happened on the train the first time I met them, you know? They were buried under sweet wrappers."

"They are trying to protect you." Severus drawled, in low persuasive tones. "But they are powerless. Every move they make is controlled by the adults around them, so their protection of you comes in bizarre forms."

The look in Hermione's eyes was oddly speculative. "Are you… defending them?" She asked.

"No." Severus gave in to his mounting curiosity and swung her book towards him, giving him an excuse to break eye contact. "But they are your friends and for a reason I have yet to work out, you consistently return to them. I assume they provide some form of relief in your life when they aren't being… possessive, and no doubt once they apologise you will return to being bosom buddies." His eyes flicked up to meet hers for a moment, and she nodded reluctantly.

"Ah, more charm work." Rhymes and Unreason: A Primer into Charming Books lay before him, it's frayed blue cover glowing lightly as though caught in the setting sun's rays.

"Oh! That was what I was trying to tell you at the wedding." Her hazel eyes suddenly brightened while her lips curled into a smile. "In addition to this bracelet, I've been attempting to create a new charmed book."

"I think the world has more than enough books that need to be chained up in between lessons," Severus deadpanned.

The heavy air which had pervaded their compartment seemed to dissipate with her bell-like laughter. "You'll like this one, I'm sure. It's like a library in a book." She rummaged in her rucksack and retrieved a dark grey book with no title or markings on the cover. She opened it reverently and pushed it towards him. The writing was small and cramped but with a press of her wand against the top of the page, the script grew larger and much easier to read.

"This is your first year Potions book." He stated with a raised eyebrow. "While the solid foundation learnt from this will lead you to being able to consume large parts of a library, I fail to see-"

His voice was cut off as she tapped her wand in a particular pattern across the spine. The words on the page danced, and settled to form a new page before his eyes. This time it showed her second year Defence against the Dark Arts book, complete with an illustration of an idiotically grinning Lockhart illuminating a cave with an accompanying passage.

"I thought you would have burned all his books." He said dryly, enclosing his delicate fingers around the book and pulling it towards him. It was heavy enough to somehow contain the two textbooks, although no more. She pushed her wand into the spine, and another passage appeared. It was a cooking recipe for bangers and mash.

"How?" He asked, raising his eyes from the page with great difficulty to stare into the chocolate eyes of the witch opposite him.

"I got the idea from several sources." She pulled a small electronic device from her bag and placed it before him too. "Have you heard of a Kindle?"

Severus shook his head mutely, but picked it up too. It was much lighter than Hermione's book had been, a sleek metallic thing that felt as though he could easily snap it in half.

"Muggles use them to store books." She explained "Just the words, obviously. Not the entire book…" She trailed off at the look on his face and swallowed. "Right, well. They find them much easier to carry around, lighter, etc. It's really quite marvellous. My mum bought me this one last Christmas, since she knows how much I love to read. She's constantly worrying about my back, because I'm always carrying a selection, you know. Dad says I'm a walking library."

Severus idly wondered if she was always this verbose, but then he was reminded of the essays she had handed in to him and while they hadn't always been a joy to read, they were excessively thorough. Honestly, who accurately cites sources at 14, especially with no official training?

"So." She took a moment to recenter and focus. "Right. Well, obviously I loved it, but I missed so many other things about holding a physical book in my hands - turning the pages, the smell of a new book…" She took a deep breath and smiled. "And although the kindle worked at Hogwarts, it only worked for the first month or so before the battery finally gave up the ghost, and of course I couldn't charge it. The thing that really made me start pursuing this idea, though, was that the device could only store magical books if I first scanned them into a PDF, and I rather thought the Ministry might send me to Azkaban or break my wand if I did that."

A deep valley of confusion appeared upon his brow and he held up a hand to stop her. "PDFs?" He asked.

"Like photographic documents. They keep the form of a page fixed, but can be opened-"

It was clear the witch had pressed her lips together firmly to prevent a further lecture on the history of PDFs and graciously waited until he nodded before continuing.

"So, that was the motivation for the work." She flashed him a quick grin and Severus had to admit he was rather enjoying this exchange. Indeed, knowing the motivations behind her… invention, would allow him the ability to think far more clearly when engaged in further discussions on the topic. She truly was an intellectual wonder.

"Go on," He said, clearing his throat watching her eyes brighten again as she continued to explain.

"Right, so. I used the charm work Riddle used on the diary - the one we discovered in second year - as my inspiration." He scowled but didn't interrupt, though the idea of this beautiful woman studying Riddle's work and finding inspiration in his madness was appalling. He finally understood what Lily had been trying to tell him all those years ago. When she'd condemned him for using the Dark Arts he'd thought her foolish. Who would shun such a large source of power.

While his mind had once again wandered, he realized Hermione hadn't stopped speaking. Severus coughed delicately in a bid to gain her attention. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

"Well, the limitations of Vold- the Dark Lord's work, were obvious from the start. This couldn't be a straight copy. For one thing, the book wasn't merely showing copies of other books, it was a living entity. For another, the Dark Magic necessary to make a Horcrux might kill me, and it would certainly fracture my mind."

Severus wasn't entirely certain about that. The witch was powerful enough that if she truly put her mind to it, she could probably manage anything - not that he would let her attempt something so foolish.

"So, as I said, it served as the inspiration but not the method. I was able to make a book that held the contents of other complete works by simply tapping them together - it was a complex web of charm-work that triggered on contact. That was the first stage of my research, actually, and the section that took the longest time."

"That would be useful in my line of work." He speculated drily. "Much easier than casting a spell and possibly more difficult to detect."

She nodded, curls bouncing with the movement. "I can show you the Arithmancy I used to create the charms if you like. Once I had the basic process down, I was able to focus my efforts on increasing the range - in other words, to increase the number of books that could be simultaneously stored. Given that the number of charms I had placed on the book seemed to double its weight, I knew it needed to be able to store at least 10 books before I could determine it a working, successful prototype."

"I think just having it working should count as a prototype, Hermione." He said gently. "After all, prototypes prove a thing is possible, it's the research that follows that makes it useful."

"Yes, well, I wanted to ensure it could be expanded on." She smiled prettily up at him. "It can hold roughly 10 at the moment but there's no way for a librarian to monitor which books might be enclosed therein. I don't want to be responsible for a device that means people start stealing books - that could very quickly lead to the death of the book industry."

Her earnestness captivated him, even as he scoffed at her goodie-two-shoes thought process.

"I'm certain you'll figure out a way." He said. Her fingers were currently resting atop of her marvellous invention and he had to suppress the irrational urge to take his wife's hand and squeeze it gently with pride. He wanted her to know how pleased he was that she had married him, taken his surname in lieu of retaining her own; how he would do anything to ensure her safety. Luckily he had enough self-control not to start down that path as he was almost positive he wouldn't be able to finish the speech without bursting into tears, or else something equally embarrassing.

"Yes, well." Her voice had taken on a quality which could only be described as tired and slow now that she was no longer expounding upon her research. "I have to focus on other things, really. Harry's search for things that I can't talk about here." The corners of her mouth flicked up and she glanced at him.

He frowned at her. "That isn't something you should joke about, Miss Granger."

"Oh, but I wasn't!" She said, jerking upright.

With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned back in the uncomfortable chair and stared out of the window. Hermione didn't reopen her book as expected, but placed her chin into her hand and stared at him, making his skin crawl. While he was happy to focus on her, he hated to be studied in this way. He was confident that all his faults and failings over the years would be scrawled across his face and arms for her to read.

"I looked up the charm, you know." Hermione said, breaking the tense silence. "The Fidelus one you had performed after our wedding."

Severus jerked his head away from the view of the suburbs of some city and arched an eyebrow. When the chit had had time to do so boggled him - they'd only been married a few hours. "Yes?" He prompted.

She fidgeted with the cuffs of her blouse, flicking at the tiny book on the chain adorning her wrist. "You didn't need to do that. For me. I would have taken you at your word."

Severus studied the witch, scratching at his chin before reinforcing the privacy wards for the third or fourth time on their journey. "I didn't do it for you." He said finally. "The Dark Lord's demands have grown more… radical in the years since his return. There are… certain aspects which I hope to be barred from on account of the Fidelus charm. It is my hope that he will see the information he will gain from our union as more important than… testing my loyalty."

All color drained from Hermione's face. "Does Dumbledore know?" She asked through gritted teeth.

"He knows." Severus sighed. The first time the Dark Lord had ordered him to perform with a Muggle, he'd refused. When Severus had finally made it back to the castle, still twitching from the Crucio he had endured, Albus had demanded a full report. He had chided Severus for jeopardizing their position with Riddle.

"You joined knowing full well what kind of man he was," the Headmaster had said, "Now I'm asking you to stay for that very same reason."

Severus flinched away from Hermione's horror-filled eyes as they met his own. He shouldn't have told her - there was too much about the war she was too innocent to understand. It was easy to imagine her getting off the train and immediately apparating back to her parent's house.

His mind latched onto the scenario and replayed it over and over again. There were times where she applied for an annulment while others she simply moved abroad. The worse one, however, was when she took the form of a muggle woman chained to a wall, the Dark Lord urging Severus towards her with a sickly smile.

It may have only been a few minutes of silence, ten at most, but Severus felt as though he had aged a decade.

The feel of Hermione's hand upon his sleeve jerked him out of the cycle of destructive thoughts. Swallowing the bile which had risen in his throat, he covered it with his own slender hand, grateful for the reminder that these scenarios he could almost taste were not real. Not yet.

"Shall I change the topic?" She asked quietly. He nodded, a sharp downward movement that set his hair to swinging. While he waited for her to speak, Severus released her hand to massage the tight muscles at the back of his neck, in an effort to stave off the headache he could feel brewing.

"Alright." There was a slight pause as she searched for something worth discussing, before she settled on, "I'm looking forward to seeing the lab you asked them to prepare."

"It won't be much," he explained. "The cottage we will be taking is usually used to run short residential courses. They don't normally offer brewing facilities in the residences as their intended use is a get-away. A chance to stop working and enjoy nature, or so they say."

"Sounds boring."

"I wouldn't know. I've never had the chance to try it."

Hermione pursed her lips at the implications of his statement and turned her gaze back out over the fields which were taking over their view, the houses from before barely a dot on the horizon. "So it will have all the equipment we need?"

"It's mainly the space and bench they will provide." Severus said. "I wouldn't trust their cauldrons and we will be sourcing our own ingredients. But the bench should have small flame holders at a good distance apart, so we can continue brewing just as we did in the lab. I couldn't risk brewing in a transfigured space, you know how volatile some of our experiments can be when exposed to magic."

She smiled at him and gently rubbed her thumb up and down his shirt. Tiny flurries of goosebumps chased away from her touch and Severus was glad he was, as always, completely covered up so that she couldn't see how pathetically relieved he was that she would touch him.

"I'm looking forward to getting started." She said earnestly, pulling back. Severus tried not to appear disappointed at the loss of her touch. "I haven't brewed a single thing for over a week now. It might be odd, and I certainly never noticed before, but it felt strangely… itchy to not have anything useful to do after spending so many days brewing daily."

Severus smiled. "You seemed busy enough when you wrote your letter."

Hermione huffed. "With wedding preparations, certainly not with Order business. My wedding won't win us the war."

Severus tapped his lip. It might not win the war, but it might make it a bit more palatable.