Author's Note: Whoops. Hermione's band was supposed to be gold. Sorry! I changed it.
Severus and Hermione moved toward a Floo. He stopped momentarily and when Hermione looked at him, he looked nervous. "What's wrong?"
"Are you all right with returning to Paris?"
"Our dinner plans are in Paris?!" She asked excitedly.
"The magical side of the Parisian high streets," He said.
"Of course I am okay with returning to Paris," She said and smiled. "I love Paris."
"I have never been," He said.
"Really?"
"As a Death Eater, I had little time for holiday, and when I did, I was on UK house arrest," He said.
"Ah," She said. She glanced at his dark robes. "You'll stick out there more in such a dark color. They're a bit more flamboyant in their robes."
He shrugged uncomfortably, and then touched his wand to his cloak. The frock coat vanished, leaving him in only his white dress shirt, and the inside of his robes turned to the emerald Slytherin green. He still looked every bit as formidable. "If they stare, it will not be because of my attire."
She searched his face for a moment and then realized he was worried more about being recognized as who he was and having her deal with the consequence of that recognition.
"I'm not ashamed to be seen with you," She said.
He studied her thoughtfully. "I know when you left Paris, it was not under the most ideal circumstances because of the Marriage Law."
"Severus," She interrupted him. "Let's go to dinner."
He nodded and stepped into the Floo with her. When they reappeared in the Parisian high streets, Severus looked about for a moment. "This way," He said. She walked next to him. Her eyes took in all of the sights and smells. She loved France, and she was excited to be back. She did notice eyes following them, but she wasn't sure it was because of her, or Severus.
"Here," He said and gestured to a door. "It's bistro fare." He opened the door and she walked inside.
They were seated at a two person table near the back. Again, Severus sat with his back to the wall. His dark eyes moved about the restaurant. "We've drawn an audience," He said lowly.
"Perhaps you should've worn a less flattering color," She teased him. The green really did look great in contrast with his dark hair.
His eyes snapped to hers. "Hardly," He said dryly.
They each order a glass of wine - Severus a Riesling, and Hermione a Cabernet Sauvignon. "This place is really nice, Severus. You didn't have to do all this." He looked at her, but said nothing. The server brought their wine. Hermione held her glass out toward Severus.
"To marriage," She said with a sly smirk. His eyes glittered and he touched his glass to hers. After taking a sip, she sighed. "You have to try this, Severus."
He looked at her with a look of mild irritation, but took the glass from her. He smelled it. "It smells like cork."
"What?" She laughed. "It does not."
He took a sip and then immediately handed the glass back to her. "I will never understand dry wine. People drink liquids because their mouths are dry. Why drink something that leaves your mouth more dry?"
She rolled her eyes, laughing. "You're impossible."
He smirked, just barely, as the server approached to take their order. After they ordered, they were alone again. Hermione, using the floor length table cloth to her advantage, dragged the toe of her shoe up his calf. He jumped at the contact, so hard that his knee slammed up into the underside of the table.
She covered her mouth so she wouldn't laugh too loudly and he flushed a deep pink. "Severus! So jumpy."
He looked a little helpless, and it only served to make her laugh harder. "I have little experience in being accosted in such a manner," He grumbled and took a sip of his wine.
She rested her foot against his ankle. He tensed for a moment, looked at her, and then relaxed. Hermione looked at her left hand. "It feels strange to wear a ring."
He glanced at his own. "Indeed."
"Suppose we'll get used to it. Everyone else does. Harry says it feels stranger now when he takes his off."
Severus nodded. "Perhaps," He said. His eyes moved over her shoulder where some very disgruntled wizards around Hermione's age were eyeing the pair of them. "You certainly draw a fair bit of attention yourself," He said.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw the two wizards, whose faces softened slightly at her attention. She turned back to Severus. "Occupational hazard... Being Harry's friend," She shrugged.
"I am quite certain your friendship with Harry Potter is not what interests them," He said lowly. His eyes were glittering. "You are here eating with me."
The server brought their dinners and placed them in front of them. "Thank you," Hermione said to the server, who bowed and walked away.
They ate in relative silence. When they talked, they talked about the plan for Astoria's treatments. She'd need one weekly, so they planned for evenings or weekends with Draco. Throughout dinner, Hermione noticed Severus' dark eyes flitting over to the two younger wizards behind her.
The waiter came back and asked about dessert, which Severus shook off and then looked at Hermione.
"No strawberry ice cream, Severus?" She asked coyly.
He said, "There's a wine bar down the alley that seemed more interesting than dessert."
"Oh, really?" She said. "No dessert for me either, thank you," She told the waiter.
When the waiter returned, Severus paid the tab. As they moved toward the door, the two younger wizards approached Hermione.
"Hermione Granger?" The brown haired wizard called in thick accent. "Vous parlez français?" Severus tensed behind her. She turned to them with a look of irritation on her face.
"I can speak French, yes," She said.
"Il parle français?" The wizard's hazel eyes moved to Severus.
Hermione glanced at Severus and saw his face was stony. She didn't know if Severus could speak French, but Severus answered for himself. He said coldly, "Vous pouvez nous parler en anglais ou pas du tout."
Hermione smirked. English, or not at all. Touché, Snape.
"Ah," The wizard said. "You are subject to ze the UK Marriage Law, no?"
Hermione looked casually at the silver band on her left ring finger. "Yes. We're here celebrating."
"You should not have to marry zis criminal," The wizard scowled.
"He's not a bloody criminal," Hermione growled and pulled her wand from her sleeve in anger. Her magic sparked in his hair briefly. She was tired of Severus being ridiculed everywhere they went today.
"That is where you are wrong, Hermione," Severus said in a very dark voice as she stepped in front of Hermione, putting himself between her wand and the two younger wizards. "Upset her further, and I will show you just how much of a criminal I can be." Snape's voice was an icy and defensive snarl.
She had figured he'd be protective. He always had been as long as she'd known him, and she didn't imagine marriage would make him any less so, especially since he seemed to at least slightly more than tolerate her in some capacities - even if it were mostly physically and intellectually. He followed her out into the alley.
"Well, that was fun," She said.
"The wine bar is that way..." He grumbled and nodded his head down the alley.
"I didn't know you speak French," She said.
He narrowed his eyes. "Hardly enough to make sense of whatever they intended to say to you if I didn't speak any."
"So, you've just learned threatening lines in other languages?"
"Occupational hazard," He mumbled.
"Severus, don't let them get under your skin. They're idiots," She said and touched his arm. He flinched. They walked down the alley for a few minutes before entering the wine bar. Determined to ease his tension, she sat very close to him at the bar.
After another glass of wine, Hermione felt bold enough to rest her hand on his knee. His eyes widened and he looked at her. "What are you playing at?"
"I'm at a wine bar with my husband," She shrugged and smirked.
"Witch, after all I've endured, you might be the death of me," He said quietly, in a way that almost sounded affectionate. He didn't move his leg away, and instead merely took a long sip of his wine.
"I'll at least wait to kill you until after tonight," She said and winked. He blushed and choked on his wine. Covering his mouth with a fist, he glared at her with those glittering black eyes.