Chapter 37

January 11, 2000

Hermione was waiting for him when he arrived home from teaching his afternoon classes. She was wearing an expression of apprehension and he steeled himself for bad news.

She patted the seat beside her on the couch. "Severus, I have something I need to tell you."

Slowly, he sank onto the cushion, turning silently to watch her. His stomach churned as he considered the possibilities. Perhaps she wanted to move back into her old room. Perhaps she had finally come to her senses and decided to leave him after all.

She swallowed. "At the manor when we were caught…" she began. He blinked. This was not where he had expected this to go. "Bellatrix. She…" Hermione trailed off, finding it difficult to continue.

"She tortured you," he said flatly. He felt a flare of anger in his chest and once again thanked Merlin that the bitch was dead. He had been made aware of this at the time that it had happened. The Dark Lord had been most… displeased at their escape.

"Yes, but she… Well. You are my husband and I think you deserve to see." She ran her hand down her left forearm and he felt the pit of his stomach drop to his toes as a single word appeared, scarred into her flesh. She stared at it, refusing to meet his gaze. Mudblood.

"Why haven't I seen this before?" he growled.

"I have a permanent glamour," she explained softly. "I can take it down temporarily but it will reactivate after an hour if I've forgotten to raise it again."

"That is not what I meant."

"I know," she whispered looking into his face. His jaw was clenched tight as he glowered at the scars, pale and puckered, on her arm. "I didn't want anyone to know."

"I am your husband," he said tightly.

She nodded meekly. "I didn't want you to pity me."

He looked sharply up to meet her gaze, holding it fiercely. "I do not pity you for this. I am angry for you. If that bitch weren't already dead I would go hunt her down and rip her limb from limb." He reached out for her arm, trailing his fingers across the horrible word. "Battle scars are not something to be ashamed of. You fought for what you believed in and you won. You were tortured for Merlin's sake." He could feel her eyes drawn to his own left arm and scowled, withdrawing the arm and cradling it against himself. "That is not a battle scar and it is not the same thing. No one forced this mark upon me," he spat bitterly. "You should be proud of those marks and what you lived through."

"Like you're proud of yours?" she asked sardonically.

His nostrils flared and he stood from the couch. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, pushing it back from his shoulders. "I have lived through a great deal, Hermione, and each of these scars holds a story, not all of them good, but I have learned from each and every one."

She stood slowly, examining the familiar contours of his chest. She reached out her hand to trace her fingers across the scars crisscrossing his skin.

"I am not saying that you should flaunt it or even keep it visible to the public but you should not be ashamed of it and you should most certainly not hide it from me," he said fiercely.

Her hands flattened on his chest and she looked up into his dark eyes. "Thank you, Severus."

He met her gaze, his temper cooling. "You have done the same for me."

oOo

Later that night as they lay wrapped around each other, Hermione traced a long scar running from his left shoulder down to his sternum. "Tell me about this one," she requested softly.

Severus did not open his eyes as his hand rose to cover hers over the scar. "Lucius," he said simply. "The Dark Lord was displeased with the vagueness of the information I brought him on the Order. Lucius was given the order to punish me. He used my own spell on me. The sectumsempra. Poppy was not happy that I bled all over her nice white sheets."

"That's horrible," she said softly. "Your friend did this to you?"

His eyes peeked open and he watched her frowning at the scar across his chest. "Make no mistake, he's gotten his fair share from me on the Dark Lord's orders. It was the way he operated. We both understood that it was not a reflection on our relationship, but a price to be paid for our following."

Her mouth pinched in a firm line but she did not argue with him. Instead she moved to another – a small, raised circle over his ribs. "And this one?"

"My father needed an ash tray," he answered bitterly. "He made sure to always use the same spot so he could make up an excuse if it was ever noticed. He needn't have worried. It never was."

"That's awful," she gasped.

"Mm," he murmured in agreement as his eyes slid shut once more. "He was an awful man."

Her hands continued to roam over his skin gently, no longer asking about his scars. Eventually she wished to know them all, but she did not want to hear any more tonight. "Severus?"

"Hermione," he returned, his voice becoming heavy with sleep.

"Will you teach me to do wandless nonverbal magic? You did it at Grimmauld Place months ago. I know the war is over, but…" her voice trailed off.

"If you'd like," he agreed. "It is a useful skill to have. One never knows what situation they may find themselves in."

She sighed deeply. "Thank you." She snuggled closer to her husband, reveling in the warmth of his body in the cold January night. "How did you learn it?"

He let out a long breath. "I learned out of necessity. I was rather tormented in school by the marauders, as you know. To be frank, they would have clobbered me three-on-one if I had not done so. It has been useful many times in my life."

"Why did they hate you so much?"

"The feeling was mutual," he assured her distastefully. "Potter was jealous. Lily and I had been friends from a very early age and he wanted what we had." He felt her stiffen and looked over to find her mouth pressed in a hard line.

"I see."

Was she… jealous? He decided to press further along that line. "Lily was a very loyal individual and so, ironically, all the torment that the marauders bestowed upon me only served to push her further from Potter."

She made a noncommittal sound in her throat.

Interesting. He would have to file that away for further analysis. He leaned in to kiss his wife. "We should get some sleep. We both have responsibilities to attend to in the morning."

Hermione nodded, rolling over and away from him. He wrapped an arm protectively around her and slid close against her back. His nose was buried in her hair but he found that he didn't mind, taking in a deep breath of her shampoo.

"Hermione?"

"Severus," she returned teasingly.

"I…" he trailed off, unsure how to continue. She waited patiently while he collected his thoughts. "I just want you to know that I do not regret the way that things have turned out. I am pleased with the way things are going." He hesitated a moment then added, "Between us."

A smile lit her face in the darkness and she felt a warmth all the way to her toes. "Me too," she whispered.

He let out a deep breath and settled in for sleep.

oOo

January 14, 2000

Hermione sat nervously in the squashy chair in front of the headmistress's desk. She didn't know why she was nervous – this was Minerva. And after all, Hermione was a married woman. It was perfectly reasonable that she should have moved in with her husband and was sharing his bed every morning and night.

"Tea?"

"Yes, please," Hermione accepted the proffered teacup, grateful to have something to do with her hands.

"How is your health?" Minerva inquired politely as she poured a cup for herself.

"Very well," the younger woman answered. "Lyra and I are both doing excellently. Poppy assures me that she is progressing as expected and that everything is perfectly normal with us both."

The headmistress lit up. "What a lovely name. A constellation, excellent."

"Yes, Draco Malfoy approved as well," she replied dryly. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Relieved that the boy seems to have some taste in some things."

"Yes, well." She took a sip of her tea, enjoying the burst of flavor over her tongue.

"So, Hermione, what can I help you with today?" Minerva asked, getting down to business.

Her stomach fluttered nervously. "Well," she began slowly, "I have been informed that only the headmaster or headmistress may make changes to the rooms and furnishings of Hogwarts."

"Ah, yes," the older woman agreed. "I expect you will be needing a nursery added onto your suite shortly."

"Actually, we just need my old room transfigured," Hermione said lowly, inspecting the mahogany desk carefully. She chanced a glance up at the headmistress to see a familiar twinkle in her eye.

"And why would that be, Hermione?"

Hermione tried not to squirm in discomfort. "Severus and I have been sharing a room for… quite some time now," she admitted.

Minerva beamed. "Oh, Hermione, I'm so glad for you both. Severus has long been in need of a woman who could settle him and whip him into shape."

She blushed. "I don't know about that…"

"Nonsense," Minerva said with a wave of her hand. "He's never given so few detentions in all the time that I've known him as a teacher and I do believe that has to do with him wanting to get home to a certain wife of his at night."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth without any sound coming forth, her face glowing red.

The headmistress smiled fondly at the girl who had always been her favorite student. "Are you happy, Hermione? Genuinely?"

She nodded slowly. "I am. I… did not expect to be, but I am. Severus is a good man, if a bit prickly. He is…" she hesitated, unsure if she should share with her husband's boss. "Please don't ever tell him I told you this, but he is a very affectionate man. I have been pleasantly surprised. I think I might be falling in love with him," she admitted in a whisper, keeping her gaze on the wall behind Minerva. She took another sip of her tea absently.

"Does Severus know this?"

Hermione shook her head fervently. "I couldn't tell him that. I don't think I could survive if he scoffed at me or rejected my feelings. I'm okay with keeping it to myself."

Minerva scrutinized the younger woman without replying. "I will, of course, need your input on the nursery. I will let you know before I drop by to do the transfiguring."

"Thank you, Minerva," she said, leaning back in her armchair.

oOo

February 22, 2000

Severus sat at a desk in the back corner of the classroom, looking forbidding. His arms were crossed over his chest and he wore a deep scowl on his face as Hermione worked on bubblehead charms with the Lestrange boy. He was still not pleased with this and did not like the way that the boy watched his wife, making sure that Severus was watching him do it. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He was very glad he had insisted on coming to these tutoring sessions to keep an eye on things. This was not nearly the first week of tutoring but every week it continued caused his unease to grow. There was an almost predatory look in the way the Lestrange boy looked at Hermione, which he of course made certain that she never saw. He had behaved perfectly civilly, even going so far as to thank her for taking the time out of her evening to help him.

Severus had attempted to speak to her about it on one occasion after their first session but she had refused to hear him out.

"You're being ridiculous," she scoffed. "He was polite and attentive. You're imagining things that just aren't there. You need to give him a chance."

He had not brought it up again, not wanting to spark an argument between them, but he made sure that she never came without him.

A/N: Yeah so this took a while. Sorry… There should only be about five chapters left. Getting into the home stretch now! Thanks everyone for sticking with me for so long. :)