Moving on, then...

"I looked into your eyes and saw your past, you looked into mine and saw a future."
– Jessie Grillo.

Hermione argued with herself for three days following the disaster at the Burrow, but finally one morning as she was getting dressed her resolve weakened and she stopped brushing her hair, staring at her reflection. "Severus?"

He was still in bed behind her; she watched through the mirror as he lifted his head and blinked at her, a little sleepily. "Yes?"

She hesitated for a moment longer – long enough for him to frown and push himself up on his elbows – before sighing. Without turning to look at him, she laid her hairbrush down and asked quietly, "Do you think I've put on weight?"

"What?" He sat up and gave her a somewhat incredulous look. "Do women really ask that? I thought it was just a myth, an urban legend or something."

"It's not. It's a serious question," she replied shortly, feeling horribly self conscious as she studied her reflection, clad only in her bra and knickers. She didn't think she looked any heavier, but... "Well?"

"Don't be bloody stupid," he told her bluntly.

She looked at him in the mirror; he looked faintly annoyed. "That's not an answer, Severus," she replied unhappily.

He made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat and shook his head. "I may not know much about relationships, but I do know that there is no right answer to that question. If I say no, you'll assume that I'm lying. If I do lie and say yes, you'll believe me. Either way, you'll be unhappy with yourself and angry with me. You've left me no way to win this one."

"This isn't funny, Severus!"

"No, it isn't," he agreed, sliding out of bed and padding nude across the floor to stand behind her. He made a show of studying her reflection for a moment, looking slightly angry for some reason, before stepping forward to stand against her back, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her back firmly against him. Lowering his head, he rested his chin on her shoulder as he often did.

"As far as I can tell, you have not gained so much as an ounce since colliding with me in Waterloo Station, beyond the usual weight fluctuations caused by hormone changes and water retention that are far too small to detect visually," he told her calmly and pedantically. "Certainly I don't believe that you have gained any weight since we became lovers. You are absolutely not overweight, Hermione. Furthermore, it would make no difference if you were."

"Is this where you tell me that looks aren't everything?" she asked bitterly.

"A philosophy I have had little choice but to live by," he replied impatiently, "given my own physical appearance, but no, that is not what I was going to say. You know how I dislike clichés." He rather suddenly bit her on the shoulder, not particularly gently. "Had you allowed me to continue," he went on more softly as she winced, more from surprise than real pain, "I was about to say that I fell in love with you, not merely your appearance. That means everything, Hermione, the whole package – mind, body, soul, heart and spirit. You are beautiful, in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with your weight." Giving her a moment to absorb that, he added far more sharply, "So stop being an idiot. You are far too intelligent for this sort of stupidity." Nipping her again, on the neck this time, he drew away from her.

"Your bedside manner could use some work," she muttered, more or less out of reflex, as his words slowly sank in. She certainly wanted to believe him, and it was equally certain that Severus wasn't the type of man to lie, but...

He snorted. "More than anyone I know, you are most emphatically not in need of coddling, nor am I particularly suited to it."

"That's certainly true."

Studying her through narrowed eyes, he sighed. "I knew you would not believe me. Veritaserum doesn't work on me, nor would swearing on the Bible be particularly conclusive... Shall I contact Potter and find out what the truth-detection charm the Ministry use is?"

"Stop it, Severus."

"No. You are being ridiculous."

She glared at him before turning and walking out of the room, realising as she did so that she was still only in her underwear and had left her wand on the bedside table. It didn't matter; if he touched her now she was still going to hex him. How dare he turn this into a joke? She could hear him following her, but didn't turn around.

"Hermione." His tone of voice stopped her – he didn't sound angry, or upset, or teasing; he sounded as serious as she had ever heard him, quiet and intent. "Hermione, look at me, please." Relenting, even though she didn't want to, she turned around and met his dark eyes, but she wasn't expecting him to then say, "Legilimens."

Hermione had been on the receiving end of Legilimency before, but not like this. She felt as though she were falling into the blackness of his eyes, as the room around them faded; there were no glimpses of memory, his or hers, and no sensation of another presence. She couldn't even tell if they were in her mind or his; there was no point of reference at all, only blackness, and it was a little frightening.

From nowhere, she heard his deep, silky voice murmuring softly, "Animadverto speculum," and a shimmering image formed in the darkness that seemed to surround her. It took her a moment to recognise herself, because there were subtle differences; this figure stood straighter, more confidently. The eyes were larger, longer-lashed, sparkling with some inner fire, their rather ordinary brown something more mutable with hints of amber and copper. The skin was the same shade, held all the same moles and freckles and small blemishes, down to the scar on her chest, but seemed somehow clearer and almost luminous with some odd quality she didn't understand, and the hair was shinier, less frizzy and with more highlights, the lips fuller.

She studied the image in some bewilderment. It was definitely, undeniably her; nothing had actually been changed – she was still Hermione Granger, bookworm, short and unfashionably curvy and with wild, tangled and untameable curly hair – but at the same time, it wasn't. This was how she had always secretly wanted to look.

And, she realised slowly, this must be how Severus saw her.

As she realised that, the connection broke, the image dissolving and the blackness fading as the room came back into focus. Severus had closed his eyes and was pinching the bridge of his nose as though to ease a headache; he was shimmering slightly, and she realised that was because she had started crying. Wiping her eyes, she asked in a small voice, "What does animadverto speculum mean?"

He replied quietly, "It means 'see the mirror'. It was the best I could come up with on such short notice – I have never done anything like that before." Giving her a serious look, he asked softly, "Did it work?" Hermione nodded shakily before the tears started flowing in earnest, and she stumbled blindly towards him. He wrapped his arms around her and she buried her head against his chest, breathing in his scent as she cried.

Once her tears had stopped, and she had progressed from feeling upset to feeling rather silly, his arms loosened a little; but rather than let go, he began drawing on her bare back with one finger, slowly sketching out a five-pointed star. As he drew each line, he murmured softly, "Mind... body... soul... heart... and spirit."

"Everything," she whispered hoarsely in understanding, and felt him nod.

"Yes."

Relaxing, she nestled closer. "Sorry," she said quietly in a rather sheepish tone.

She could hear a smile in his voice. "I forgive you. This time."

"I'm hoping there won't be a next time," she muttered. "I feel like a complete prat."

"So you should," he told her tartly, drawing back to smile down at her. "I feel it only fair to warn you that if I suspect you are even thinking of dieting, I will not hesitate to stop you by any means necessary, up to and including Unforgiveables. And you make it very difficult to compliment your looks when you cry," he added rather whimsically, leaning down to kiss her gently before asking, "Are you really so insecure about your appearance because of that ginger tosser?"

Almost laughing at the description, she shook her head. "It's not just him, although he was the catalyst for this particular little breakdown. I've never really felt very attractive."

Severus grimaced. "I remember making a number of rather insensitive comments over the years; I suppose I didn't help much, did I."

"Not really, no," she agreed, "but you were just one small part of the whole. I think probably the biggest factor was my having to share a dormitory with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil for six years."

"Ouch," he agreed quietly. "I have seldom seen two more shallow students. I can see how that might have had an impact on your self esteem."

She nodded. "Add to that all my male friends treating me like 'one of the boys' and all other males steering well clear or openly hating me, as well as your Slytherins insulting me every time I turned around... it makes a girl insecure."

"I can understand that," he remarked, and she smiled a little at the irony in his tone.

"We really are both very alike, aren't we?"

"So it would seem," he agreed quietly, before kissing her forehead. "I trust you have a little more faith in yourself now?"

"A little, yes. I wish everyone saw with your eyes, though."

"I may see beyond the obvious, but I see nothing that isn't there," he retorted gently, kissing her deeply on the mouth before drawing away. "And right now, I see that I am going to be late to breakfast; I need to get dressed. Please try not to have a breakdown while I'm teaching."

"I'll do my best," she promised dryly. He shaved and dressed in record time and was half way out of the door when she spoke again. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

She walked over to him and hugged him fiercely. Caught off guard, he froze for a moment before hugging her back; she heard faint laughter in his voice. "Foolish woman," he told her affectionately.

"Probably," she agreed, pulling back just far enough to smile at him. "I do love you, Severus."

His eyes softened and he returned her smile. "I love you, too," he assured her quietly, before he bent his head and kissed her. "I would like to prove to you just how attractive I find you, but I really must go." Giving her a mock-stern look, he added, "Hold the thought; we shall discuss this later. At length." Kissing her again, he left the room, leaving her grinning at the closed door before she went to finish getting dressed.

Later that night, he kept his promise and devoted several hours to emphasising all the parts of her that he evidently found attractive, employing his wonderful voice and extensive vocabulary to support his physical arguments as he searched diligently for any extra weight she might have managed to gain without his noticing, eventually concluding that there was none to be found. He was extremely convincing, and she finally fell asleep in his arms some time after midnight, feeling thoroughly and deeply loved.

On New Year's Eve, Hermione watched Severus reluctantly getting dressed – defiantly sticking to his ordinary teaching robes, she noticed, and his oldest set at that. His scowl summed up her own mood; she would much rather stay here with him than go and socialise with their colleagues. They were nice enough people, but they weren't Severus. "What did you have planned for tonight?" she asked softly.

"London," he replied as he raked a comb through his hair irritably. "Have you ever been to Diagon Alley on New Year's Eve?"

"No."

"It's... very atmospheric," he said slowly, turning and looking at her with a half-smile. "About the closest Britain can get to a real carnival, no matter what the Notting Hill lot think."

"Sounds like fun," she said regretfully. "That was always something I'd have loved to experience, Rio during the carnivals. Did you ever do that, while you were in America?"

His lips twitched. "Yes, once, although I have to admit I don't remember much about it except colour and noise. I took some pills that someone gave me, washed down with some sort of alcohol that had probably been boiled in a bucket somewhere, and it's all a bit of a blur after that."

"I trust you don't need me to point out that that was a really bad idea?" she asked, amused.

He snorted softly. "One of many bad ideas, believe me. I have probably tried almost every recreational drug known to man over the years, for one reason or another; ironically, almost never for recreational purposes."

"And to think, Minerva wants you to be setting a good example," she commented, smiling.

He snickered softly. "Small chance of that. And no, she doesn't; she just wants to control me, and by extension everyone else. God forbid anyone should go out and have fun on New Year's Eve when they could be sitting around trying to make awkward small talk with the same people they have to see every single day."

"Fun on New Year's Eve?" she gasped theatrically, trying to look shocked. "But I thought it was all a colossal waste of time – 'fucking pointless', I think you said."

"Oh, shut up."

The evening wasn't particularly successful so far, Hermione reflected dolefully. The champagne was good, but her work colleagues weren't really the type of people she wanted to get drunk with; at the moment she and Neville were talking to one side and watching everyone else, as Severus had said, making awkward small talk. Severus himself was lurking in a corner, scowling, and drinking more than he should be; she knew from experience that he was usually a miserable drunk – unless it was in Paris, anyway, apparently, when the normal rules evidently did not apply – and she would prefer that he wasn't in a bad mood once they managed to escape after midnight.

She would also prefer that he wasn't too drunk to do anything once they eventually made it to bed, although admittedly she had never seen him that inebriated; she wasn't sure there was enough alcohol in the world to render Severus Snape incapable if he was feeling amorous, although his current mood seemed dark enough that it was looking less likely with each passing minute.

"This is bleak, isn't it?" Neville muttered, looking around the room. He too had evidently had other things in mind for tonight.

"Just a bit, yes," she agreed, suppressing a sigh. "Don't get me wrong, I like you all, but really, I'd much rather be elsewhere."

"I'll bet." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Now, now, no need for that. You're only jealous, anyway," she teased.

He grinned ruefully at her. "Merlin help me, I think sometimes I am," he said, to her surprise. "I still can't understand how, or why, but the pair of you are annoyingly happy. And with Minerva restricting my social life, I don't have a lot of options around here. Can't you be miserably single like a normal person, instead of shacking up with Snape?"

"Apparently not," she told him in a mock-sorrowful tone, smiling. "If we could survive Christmas, I think we're permanent."

Neville nodded. "I still can't believe Ron went that far. It's the kind of thing he'd have done when we were fourteen; aren't we supposed to be adults now? Theoretically, at least..."

"God, let's not talk about him now. Tonight's depressing enough as it is."

"Copy your boyfriend, or whatever it is you call him," Neville suggested with a sigh. "Let's get pissed. Nothing else to do, is there?"

"Boyfriend," Hermione repeated, snorting. "He's in his fifties, you daft pillock. And I think I'm a bit old for boyfriends now, too."

"Yeah, you're thirty one; ancient." He grinned ruefully at her. "If you're this depressed, you definitely need another drink, before Snape necks it all."

"Oh, don't." She sighed. "He's a really miserable bastard when he's drunk. Tonight's going to be an absolute washout. Still, at least this part's nearly over," she added with a brief flare of optimism as the first chimes of midnight rang out.

"Twelve!" Minerva called. "Eleven... ten..."

As the countdown continued, the teachers half-heartedly mumbling along, Hermione turned to look at Severus, who was slouching against the wall with one hand in his pocket and an oddly thoughtful expression on his face. As she watched, he straightened up and put his champagne glass down, his eyes starting to glitter; she frowned in sudden suspicion, recognising his plotting expression, and as the countdown reached three he took his hand out of his pocket. On two, everything went dark.

Shocked cries rang out in the sudden pitch blackness, as the final chime echoed above the din of people stumbling over one another. Hermione fumbled for her wand, hearing people all around her trying light spells somewhat frantically and with absolutely no effect, and nearly screamed when hands grabbed her by the shoulders. She had a breathless second of sheer panic as she was pulled off balance, stumbling and falling against a solid and familiar body, before she was thoroughly and deeply kissed.

The hands let go after a long moment and she fell back against the wall, dazedly trying to work out what the hell had just happened; now that she had a moment to breathe, she recognised the thick blackness around them as Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and even as she realised it the darkness began to diffuse and light crept back into the room. Everyone was staring around in confusion with their wands in their hands, some dazedly picking themselves up from where they had tripped over furniture or one another.

Slowly she turned to look at Severus, who was innocently standing in his corner with his wand out; even from here, she could see the faint powder smudges on his hand, as well as the suspicious flush of colour in his cheeks. She would recognise the taste and feel of his mouth anywhere, even without those subtle clues; he caught her eye and smirked, lifting his champagne glass to her in his free hand and mouthing, Happy New Year.

Shaking her head and trying desperately not to laugh, she turned away and met Neville's confused gaze. "What the hell just happened?" he asked faintly, echoing her own thoughts.

Biting her lip to hold back giggles, Hermione did her best to look innocently bewildered. "I really don't know." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Severus dusting his hand off on his robes, and bit harder on her lip, shaking with the effort of controlling herself.

The evening had dissolved into chaos after that. Minerva had been furious, half-certain it was some kind of joke but with no suspects; Neville and Hermione were the most likely candidates, but since her only justification for that was that they were the youngest, the Headmistress was forced to let it go. Several of the staff members were looking askance at Filius Flitwick, strangely enough; apparently he had done something similar during a staff meeting under Umbridge once, which was presumably where Severus had got the idea.

The real culprit was clearly enjoying himself, smirking obviously enough that Neville had noticed it and worked out what had happened; the Herbology teacher was looking utterly bewildered now, apparently finding it difficult to believe that the dreaded Professor Snape actually had a sense of humour at all, let alone a playful one. Nobody else suspected a thing, so it seemed likely that he would get away with it, and he was looking very pleased with himself as he leaned against the wall absently humming Auld Lang Syne and watching the chaos he had caused.

"You bastard," she greeted him affectionately when they were finally allowed to leave. "You could have warned me! I nearly hexed you."

"Warned you about what?" he replied innocently, before snorting softly. "And I was shielding myself, naturally. I am not a fool."

"No, just completely mental." She grinned at him, certain that nobody was ever going to believe this story. "You buy from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? That's an interesting mental image."

He gave her a look of disdain as they turned towards the dungeons. "Hardly. We have an entire store room full of confiscated contraband sitting around gathering dust. Some of it is proving quite useful; although I am certain that George Weasley would have given me the powder for nothing – especially if I had told him why I wanted it."

"True," she agreed, smiling. "I don't even want to know what made you do this."

"I wanted a kiss at midnight," he replied in a lofty tone, "and I saw no reason why I should allow Minerva McGonagall to prevent it."

"Daft sod," Hermione told him fondly. "It might have been a better kiss if you'd given me some warning. I didn't have time to respond."

"Then consider yourself warned," he told her, and she barely had time to register the almost mischievous gleam in his eyes before he pushed her against the wall and kissed her again. This time he lingered, allowing her to kiss him back, and she reached up to wind her fingers through his hair as she tasted champagne on his tongue before they reluctantly drew apart.

"Happy New Year, you lunatic," she told him gently, smiling a little. "Come on; you can help me think up some suitable resolutions."

It turned out that he had also stolen a bottle of champagne during the few seconds of darkness, shrinking it and putting it in his pocket; the rest of the night turned out to be much more enjoyable than the earlier portion had been. No, apparently, he couldn't get so drunk that he was unable to perform, much to their mutual satisfaction.

Hermione woke early on the morning of the ninth of January; she had made a number of plans for Severus' birthday and given that they both had to teach today she needed plenty of time to put them into action, and if any students managed to ruin things again this year she was going to lose her temper. It was one of his busiest days of the week, so when he left for breakfast she wasn't likely to see him again until after dinner (although she had one or two ideas on that score); she didn't think she'd have the time to attend lunch. There was quite a lot to do, but she allowed herself a few minutes to watch him sleeping first, listening to the slow and even rhythm of his breathing as she reflected on the past couple of years. We've come a long way, she mused idly, smiling a little.

Aware that she could only stare at him for a short while before he sensed it and woke up, she shifted onto her side and rose on her elbow, leaning over him and kissing him lightly. Waking Severus up before he was ready to wake could occasionally be dangerous, but he was nowhere near as jumpy as he used to be, and if he was dreaming anything it didn't seem to be affecting him, so she felt safe enough – although she was still ready to shield and get back if she'd misjudged it.

When she felt him starting to respond, Hermione broke the kiss and drew back to watch his face, as he opened his eyes and gave her a sleepy look. If the situation demanded it he could still wake instantly and be fully alert in the space of a heartbeat, but she had learned he preferred not to, and he was actually surprisingly cute when he woke up slowly – something she didn't plan on telling him. "Hello," he mumbled, blinking and stifling a yawn.

"Hello, yourself," she replied, smiling at him. "Happy birthday."

"Mm," he responded vaguely, closing his eyes again. Smiling again, she leaned in and kissed him once more. He murmured something that sounded like it might have been a comment on morning breath – hers or his, or both, she couldn't tell – but responded sincerely enough that he clearly didn't object. She settled against his side and he turned towards her as the kiss deepened; closing her eyes and relaxing as his arms slid around her, she rested a hand on his chest and slowly trailed her fingers down his body, across his stomach and over his hip to the heat and hardness of his morning erection.

He sighed into her mouth as she touched him, shifting slightly beneath her, and she gently wrapped her fingers around his shaft and began to stroke him slowly. Drawing away from his lips, she kissed the corner of his jaw and nuzzled at his neck, squeezing him gently in her hand until he groaned softly and arched into her touch. Slowly running her thumb around the head, she teased his foreskin back, feeling liquid on her fingers and slicking his length as she worked him a little more. Kissing his throat carefully, Hermione traced each of the two ragged scars with her tongue, feeling him shiver as his breath hitched; he was responding to that more than to her hand. Apparently the old snakebite was an extremely sensitive area, now that he had grown used to contact with his neck, although she wasn't sure if it was physical or psychological – or both, probably.

It was slow and oddly relaxed, as she kissed him again and continued to gently stroke him and he twined his fingers lazily through her hair, snagging in the tangled curls. She moved, sliding down the bed, gently kissing his skin as she went, until her mouth replaced her hand between his legs and he moaned softly in response. Finally his back arched and he groaned deep in his chest, shivering; the taste of him intensified before he came in her mouth. He relaxed bonelessly against the pillows with his eyes closed, smiling slightly, and she swallowed, then found her wand and carefully finished cleaning up. "Well," he observed after a pause, his voice an even deeper version of his usual morning growl, "that's certainly a pleasant way to wake up. Thank you."

Crawling back up the bed and leaning over, she kissed him gently before settling down once more, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat slowing down as the taste of him lingered in her mouth. "You're very welcome."

"Allow me to return the favour?" he offered.

She shook her head, snuggling closer. "Not right now. You've got to get ready for breakfast; there's probably still time, but I'm not really in the mood for a quickie at the moment. You can owe me, if you like."

"A pleasant obligation, for a change," Severus replied dryly, sounding slightly more awake; she could hear a smile in his voice as he shifted closer. "Do I take it that you will not be present at breakfast, again?"

"I am not contractually obliged to be there, and I know you're jealous of that fact," she informed him mildly, smiling. "And I am busy this morning. Things to see to, birthday presents to arrange, classes to teach, that sort of thing."

"Indeed?"

"Mm-hm." Idly she picked up his necklace and started playing with it. "Having to work around your schedule is a real pain, you know."

"So sorry to inconvenience you," he told her insincerely, and she felt him shift beneath her as he stretched. "You have succeeded in utterly destroying what little motivation I had to get up, you know."

"You'll live. Go take your shower and start your day. Try not to kill any of your students, either," she added warningly. "I have several plans for you today and none of them involve you being lectured by Minerva or having to oversee detentions. Behave yourself."

He snorted softly and sat up as she disentangled herself from him, and they shared a lingering kiss before separating, Severus to the bathroom and Hermione to her rooms for her heavy winter cloak before she ventured out into the snowy darkness of a January morning in Scotland for the next phase of her plan.

This had taken a lot of research, she reflected as she gingerly picked her way through the snow, holding her illuminated wand in front of her. And she'd had a devil of a time keeping it from Severus, too; he wasn't nosy by nature, but he had an almost uncanny ability to notice and interpret the tiniest things, which was actually bloody annoying, she told herself with a fond smile as she wrapped her cloak more tightly around her.

"He couldn't possibly have been born in June," she complained softly to herself, shivering, as she stared up at the stone obelisk in the darkness. It would be more sensible to wait for daylight, but she did have actual work to do today, and in any case she didn't want to risk anyone finding out what she was doing until it was done. Taking a breath, she began patiently unravelling the layers of charms protecting the monument – and its sister in Diagon Alley – from everything from pigeons to deliberate vandalism, while leaving intact the Protean charm that linked the two.

Once that was done, she casually climbed onto the corner of Dumbledore's white marble tomb, brushing the snow out of the way carefully to get somewhere safe to stand. "Sorry, sir," she murmured, her breath steaming in the cold. "Still, I'm sure you wouldn't mind, especially if you knew what I was doing." She'd tell the portraits later, possibly; she was certain that they would heartily approve of this. Raising her wand, she studied the neatly etched names at the top of the obelisk; it was very tall, because there were a lot of names. Those who had died in active service in the Order were in black, the others in gold.

ALBUS
PERCIVAL
WULFRIC
BRIAN
DUMBLEDORE

HARRY
JAMES
POTTER

RONALD
BILIOUS
WEASLEY

HERMIONE
JEAN
GRANGER

MINERVA
MCGONAGALL

KINGSLEY
SHACKLEBOLT

ALASTOR
'MAD-EYE'
MOODY

...

Somewhat irrelevantly, she found herself wondering idly why Minerva and Kingsley didn't have middle names. Then again, perhaps it was just as well, given the kinds of names so many pureblood families gave their children; she remembered with a whimsical smile how hard Ron had argued to try and get out of having his middle name displayed. With a name like Bilious, she wasn't at all surprised. And admittedly Mad-Eye wasn't Moody's real middle name, but the overwhelming majority had voted for the nickname. She wasn't sure she agreed with herself, Harry and Ron being among the most important names so close to the top, either; Harry, yes, but she and Ron hadn't really been involved until the hunt for the Horcruxes, aside from the battle in the Ministry. Harry had insisted, though.

"Stop woolgathering, Hermione," she muttered, rubbing her hands together to try and coax some warmth back into her fingers. "Get this done, and go back inside where it's warm." Reaching out, she tapped her wand on the stone and started to shuffle the names, moving the first few up a little and the rest down. It took quite a while, but eventually she had a large enough space to work with. Taking a few minutes to rest and try to stamp some feeling back into her feet, she set to work, relieved that at least it wasn't snowing; engraving by magic wasn't easy even when you could see what you were doing. She found herself wishing that she'd enlisted Neville to come and hold his wand and cast some more light, or at least brought a torch, but it was a bit late to think of that now.

Finally it was done, and she took a careful step back on the marble tomb to admire her handiwork, wiping her forehead; despite the low temperatures, the concentration had left her feeling quite warm, or maybe that was just pleasure in seeing what she had done.

...

HERMIONE
JEAN
GRANGER

SEVERUS
TOBIAS
SNAPE

MINERVA
MCGONAGALL

...

In an ideal world, she would have added Severus' name immediately after Harry's, or perhaps even before him, but she knew what she could get away with. Nobody would accept Severus receiving such a high place, and she knew Severus himself would argue. Besides, she had to admit she quite liked seeing their names together. Climbing down from Dumbledore's tomb, she touched her wand to the stone once more and started hastily reapplying the charms that would stop anyone from undoing her work or attempting to cross his name out or paint over it. This obelisk was linked to the main one in Diagon Alley; it might take a while, but eventually someone was going to notice the new name, at which point all hell would break loose.

Smiling to herself once it was done, she took another moment to admire the edited list; if the world wasn't going to recognise her lover willingly, she was damned well going to make them. Nodding in satisfaction, she checked her watch; time to head back inside and get ready for her first class of the day. She turned towards the castle, erasing her footprints in the snow as she went.

In the end, she did make it to lunch, although she was running late by then; she was too hungry not to, since she hadn't had breakfast – nothing solid, at least, she told herself, trying not to laugh as she took her seat next to Severus.

"You look pleased with yourself," he greeted her laconically as she helped herself to food, ravenous after the early morning in the cold and a long class. "Have you been having fun? I would like to know how you managed that."

Hermione grinned at him. "In a place like this, you have to make your own fun, as I believe I proved to you earlier," she told him primly, smiling as his eyes glittered with laughter and lazy heat in response. "And thus far, my plans are progressing satisfactorily, Professor Snape. Thank you for asking."

"I look forward to finding out the nature of these plans," he drawled, sounding amused and shamelessly helping himself from her plate, so deftly that she doubted anyone could have seen him.

Kicking him lightly in the shin by way of rebuke gave her an idea, and she grinned to herself as she started to eat. "Well, you're just going to have to wait," she told him, carefully slipping her shoe off under the table as she turned away and started chatting to Neville. It didn't take much to get her friend happily talking about his latest project – a hybrid something-or-other; she wasn't paying that much attention – which allowed her to nod and smile and occasionally make encouraging noises while she concentrated on what she was doing.

She felt Severus stiffen in momentary surprise as her now-bare foot touched his leg, before he relaxed with a barely-audible laugh and returned to his food; suppressing a smile, she managed to ask Neville a relevant question, and pretended to listen to the answer as she began to tease. By the time she dropped a hand below the table to rest on his thigh she could tell just from the temperature of his body through his robes that he was responding. Squeezing his leg gently, she started to move her hand upwards, and heard him whisper, "Muffliato," before he gave her a reproving look as the familiar faint buzz filled her ears. "Stop that."

"Why?" she asked innocently. "Aren't you having fun?"

His lips twitched. "Rather more 'fun' than I am comfortable with in front of such a large audience," he replied dryly, barely moving his lips. "In addition, I would like to remind you that I am teaching all afternoon. Classes with the second years and the fifth years are tiresome enough; I do not need any distractions, thank you."

She grinned at him. "So you're saying I shouldn't sneak in to your practical class this afternoon and suck you off in the store cupboard, then?" she asked mischievously, trying not to move her lips just in case any of the students could lip-read. Hermione almost lost her composure completely at the look on his face; she could feel his sudden interest in the way his thigh had tensed under her hand and she could almost see him trying to work out whether they would get away with it.

After far too long a pause, he relaxed again and gave her an amused look. "I repeat, stop distracting me. Tempting though the idea is." Smiling back at him, she took her hand away and moved her foot as he lifted the charm, and returned to talking to Neville as she tried to get her shoe back on.

She managed to resist the urge to actually sneak down to the Potions classroom between her own classes that afternoon, but it was a surprisingly close thing. She suspected that the idea was probably more erotic than the reality would have been; in any case, she had work to do, ensuring that they could both have a free evening – that meant finishing her own paperwork before working her way through some of Severus' marking that she had stolen from the staff room that morning. She was getting better at mimicking his handwriting and general marking style, she reflected as she finished the last essay, although no doubt he would think that she hadn't been harsh enough.

Hermione left him well alone during dinner, spotting that he was fed up and irritable – not unusual after a long day of teaching, she had to admit. He really didn't enjoy it, and he was wasted teaching anything below at least OWL level if not NEWT. Slipping out well before the end of the meal, she hastened to the dungeons to check that her plans for the rest of the evening were all set up, before ducking through some of the secret passages he had taught her and making sure that when he left the Entrance Hall and moved out into the dark snowy evening for a cigarette, she was waiting for him.

He raised an eyebrow at her by way of a greeting as he lit up, and she smiled, reaching for his free hand and tugging him away from the shelter of the castle wall. "I want to show you something."

"It's snowing," he complained mildly as he obediently followed her, picking his way carefully through the snow.

"It does that here in January. I'm sure you've noticed."

"I'll thank you to leave the sarcasm to me. Where are we going?"

"You'll see." He huffed in exasperation, but followed her anyway, giving her a puzzled look when the tomb came into view.

"A little morbid..."

"Is that why you usually come down here to brood?" she responded tartly, but softened it by smiling at him. "Go and take a look at the obelisk. Go on," she added firmly when he looked at her, and even pushed him towards it, watching as he raised his wand and cast Lumos.

Nobody else would have noticed, she knew; she imagined it would be quite a long time before someone spotted the change on the Diagon Alley monument, probably not until it next needed cleaning. But Severus had always been observant, from what she knew, and he had learned very early on to pay attention to his surroundings; years as a spy had taught him to see beyond the obvious, and it was only a few moments before she heard him draw in a sharp breath and saw him tense as he stared upwards. Slowly she walked forwards and stood next to him, looking up at the wand light glittering off the engraved names.

"Oh, Hermione," he murmured softly after a long moment, looking down at her. He paused, before continuing in a different tone, "You're going to cause a riot when someone realises what you've done."

Not fooled for a moment by the flippant remark – he was genuinely touched, even if he was refusing to admit it – she smiled at him and shrugged dismissively. "It'll be weeks if not months before anyone notices, and nobody will know it was me. There's no way of knowing which monument was changed, and there is more than one person prepared to admit that you were on our side."

Severus arched an eyebrow at her, flicking his cigarette into the snow. "But the list of people who would put my name so high is extremely small. In fact, I believe such a list would consist of you. And possibly Potter, I suppose, if he felt guilty enough."

"You're welcome, Severus, since I'm sure you actually meant to say 'thank you'," she told him dryly, and he smiled ruefully in response, turning to glance back up at the stone before looking down at her again.

"Sorry. Thank you."

"That's better." Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. "Happy birthday. Now let's get inside before we freeze to death."

"I've been quite warm today, actually," he told her pointedly as they headed back towards the castle.

She grinned impishly at him. "Distracting thoughts, hm?"

"Extremely distracting," he agreed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Especially when I needed to fetch something from the store cupboard."

Hermione smothered a laugh. "Sorry about that."

"Liar."

Once back in the dungeons, she presented him with his completed marking, accepting the grateful look and handing him a bottle of the obscure beer he favoured; that hadn't been easy to get hold of up here, either. "I could get used to this, you know," he observed as he stretched out comfortably on the battered old sofa.

She grinned at him. "Peasant. I suggest you don't get used to it. Birthdays are special occasions; you can damned well wait on yourself the rest of the year."

Smirking slightly, he raised the bottle to her in a mocking toast and took a drink, relaxing. "Thank you, in any case."

"You still have one or two presents to come," Hermione told him, smiling as he looked at her curiously. "Can I have your necklace for a moment?"

Somewhat to her surprise, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why? What are you going to do to it?"

Blinking at this reaction, she replied slowly, "I was only going to Transfigure it into something a bit better than resin and cheap metal."

His eyes slid away from hers. "I'd rather you didn't..."

"Why not?" she asked curiously, leaning forward to maintain eye contact with him as much as possible, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"I like it the way it is."

"Severus, I'm pretty sure I got it from a Christmas cracker. It's strung on what looks very much like a shoe lace."

He shook his head stubbornly, still not looking at her. "I don't care."

"Severus?" she asked gently, and after a moment he sighed and looked up.

"It's the best present I've ever had," he told her quietly.

She stared at him. "You can't be serious."

Slowly he reached under the neck of his robe and drew the yin-yang out, turning it over in his fingers. "It's the first time someone gave me anything that really meant something, that was significant and personal and not just for the sake of fulfilling a gift-giving obligation."

Oh, Severus. She understood now. Reaching out, she gently took the necklace from his fingers and tucked it back under his robe, smiling at him when he looked at her. "Okay," she told him softly, before smiling again. "I hope you at least had the sense to put a couple of charms on it to stop it falling apart."

"Naturally," he replied, looking happier now and relaxing a little.

"Nobody likes a smart aleck."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. "I was under the impression that you did, actually."

"I love you, Severus. It doesn't mean that I'm required to like you," she told him dryly. "Which is just as well, since you're not at all likeable." Standing up, she leaned down and kissed him gently. "Finish your beer. I'll be back in a few minutes."

When she returned, Hermione held a jar in her hand, and Severus smiled at her, clearly recognising it. As he should, really, since it held the latest and probably the final version of his scar treatment; Bill had reported happily that it seemed to be working better than the first attempts had. Smiling back at him, she beckoned to him and padded into the bedroom, and when he followed her she turned to him and kissed him before wordlessly beginning to remove his clothing, taking her time.

He had a lot of scars; it took a long time to carefully treat them all, especially since she was so used to them by now that she genuinely didn't notice a lot of the individual marks. She left his back for last, since it was the worst, and finally straddled his hips as he lay on his stomach and looked down at his back, at the shape of his shoulder blades, the line of his spine, the play of the long muscles under his pale skin. So many scars... Leaning down, she set to work, gently kissing each mark before carefully applying a small amount of salve, using it more as a massage oil than as a serious medical treatment now.

Working her way up to his shoulders, Hermione slowly traced her fingers along the deepest scars, the ones that looked like whip marks; she'd never openly asked about specific scars, and he had never volunteered any information, except for the single self-harm scar behind the Dark Mark. Leaning over him once more, she gently ran her tongue over the worst parts, feeling the ridges and furrows of the skin, before slowly working some of the ointment into the slick scar tissue, blinking away the tears as they began to form. "So much pain," she whispered, barely aware that she was speaking aloud until she felt him shiver beneath her in response and heard him sigh in wordless agreement.

Finished at last, she drew away, capping the jar of salve and laying it down; when she turned to look back at him he had rolled over and was watching her silently, his dark eyes deep and fathomless and holding the indescribable look that he always wore whenever she said that she loved him. She strongly suspected that she was the only person who had ever said that to Severus in all the fifty one years of his life; he deserved so much more than those loveless scars. Moving back to the bed, she looked down at him and he reached out to draw her down beside him, kissing her gently. Neither of them spoke; there was no need to.

She kissed the scars on his neck as he began to remove her clothes in turn, his hands and then his mouth slowly travelling across her skin as it was bared to him. Straddling his hips, she leaned down and kissed him, closing her eyes and losing herself in the familiar taste and feel of his mouth as his erection pressed against her, before he arched his back a little and she shifted, sitting up and reaching between them to guide him inside her. He sighed as she sank onto him, his fingers tightening on her hips as he filled her.

Feeling him throb inside her, she clenched her muscles around him in response, reaching down to gently grasp his hands; holding his wrists loosely, she leaned forward, resting her weight on his arms and pinning his wrists to the bed. It wasn't a true restraint; even with the extra leverage of her position, she wasn't strong enough to hold him down, nor would she ever have attempted to do so. He had warned her against bondage a very long time ago, and the idea held no appeal anyway; that wasn't the point of this. She wasn't trying to stop him doing anything, merely making it clear that he didn't actually have to do anything.

Severus got the point; she felt a moment of instinctive tension as his arms flexed under her hands and his back arched a little, before he exhaled slowly and relaxed, his body growing loose and pliable beneath her as he lay back and looked up at her with hazy eyes, surrendering to her – physically, at least, although there was a gleam in his eyes that belied his passive body language. Smiling, she kissed him again as she began to move, fighting the urge to close her eyes, watching him beneath her.

He moved a little beneath her as she rode him, his hips rising and falling to match her rhythm, but he seemed quite happy to lie there and let her have her way with him. Starting to breathe harder, she laughed softly down at him. "It's not often I see you so submissive..."

He snorted, smiling up at her. "If you want to do all the work, who am I to argue?"

Shifting her knees a little further apart on either side of his hips, she grinned and squeezed her muscles around him in response, making him groan. "You and I are two of the most argumentative people in existence, Severus."

"True," he conceded, sounding slightly breathless now as he arched his back, straining momentarily against her grip. "Oh, do that again..."

It wasn't often he was that vocal, either, Hermione reflected as she did as he asked. He was moving more now, thrusting up to meet her each time she sank onto him; he wasn't passive by nature, and she certainly wasn't going to complain if he wanted to take a more active role now. Releasing his wrists, she sat up straighter, beginning to gasp and shiver as she drew closer. She increased the speed of her movements, and he matched her; as her orgasm broke over her, he cried out her name, bucking beneath her as he came with her.

Two more pieces of fan art, both from Ridgley Warfield: therapist-in-a-box dot deviantart dot com /#/d3eurwj and therapist-in-a-box dot deviantart dot com /#/d3eurh9