Author's Note: I originally wrote this fic in 6 chapters, with a goal to make each chapter 10k words. However, each chapter ended up going over, which means it wouldn't fit onto Ashwinder, so I've divided each up into 2 chapters. :) Enjoy!
Chapter 1 Part 2
Her solution was brilliant.
The problem with being proposed to abruptly with the lack of time was, well, the lack of time. Severus counted the strokes: sixteen counter-clockwise, one-quarter clockwise, repeat. He had to keep rhythm for the next twenty-three minutes or the potion would curdle. The cauldron of Brain Elixir wouldn't be rendered useless, but chewing something one was supposed to drink was unpleasant.
He had finally turned Baruffio's useless base into what he had claimed the potion to be. As a placebo, it worked moderately well. However, if Severus's calculations were correct—and it was rare they weren't when he was not distracted—the new base would make the potion actually increase someone's intellect, if only for a short while.
...three, four, five...
When he got it working, he was tempted to dose the entire student body's morning pumpkin juice every day.
Or maybe he would use it to see if he could figure another way around the impending law.
Both Hermione and he were in a predicament, and it was all the damned Ministry's fault.
...fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, quarter back... Severus sighed, switching hands mid-stir.
Hermione and he had a great deal in common. If the summer thus far was any indication, they wouldn't have a problem coexisting. He could easily tolerate her mood swings, and her cycle was of little to no concern. She wasn't slovenly, and her table manners left nothing to be desired. Her disposition was usually cheery, though when she picked a fight she could argue the gold out of a Goblin. It left little doubt as to just how she had convinced Gringotts to let her open a vault after her actions during the war.
The primary concerns in his mind were: the ceremony itself, sharing a bed, and her want for children.
...nine, ten, eleven, twelve...
Severus had given little thought to children, and it was something that would require discussion. He wasn't opposed—not really—but he had concerns about the idea. After all, he'd never thought that he would have them.
Sharing a bed would be simple enough to request. If she stole the blankets, he ought to know. He refused to sleep on a sofa for the rest of his life, and he highly doubted she would be amenable to doing so, either. The worst scenario was separate beds.
...two, three, four...
The true problem was the ceremony.
Hermione tapped on the lab door and it swung open just in time for her to see him heave a cauldron into the sink.
"Dinner should be ready in a bit if you want to finish up."
Severus nodded, running the water and added a squirt of Mrs. Scower's to the cauldron. The brewing had been successful, the decanting uneventful, and now he had a twenty-pound hunk of iron to scrub. It was undoubtedly his least favourite part and he was happy to leave it 'til later.
"I will be there in a moment."
Dinner looked appetizing, which was more than he could say about the chicken dish she had tried to serve him last week, but it appeared that Hermione was capable enough to manage spaghetti. And it wasn't as if they needed to cook more than three months a year, either. While the elves were happy enough to provide professors with ingredients to make their own meals, they mostly had summers off.
"Oh bugger! The bread!"
Hermione darted into the kitchen and Severus chuckled under his breath. She returned a moment later, and he was relieved to see it was only slightly charred along the outer edges. The garlic smelled heavenly-he positively adored garlic. The more the better. "Sorry. Now dinner is served."
"It was fine before," Severus replied, eyeing one piece of garlic bread in particular. To his surprise, she handed it to him.
"Here, it's the least burnt. Can't believe I forgot."
"It has been a trying day."
"No kidding." Hermione bit savagely into her bread. "The Ministry also passed a few compliance laws in regards to the new OWL standards for non-core classes, so I have to work that into the curriculum, too. It's bloody irritating."
"I have no doubt you will manage it. If they try to change the Potions standards again, I may hex the lot of them. While I am certain that Muggle Studies provides you with several annoyances, try rearranging five years of potions simply to make everything fit while ensuring no one blows themselves up. Though it would serve the little idiots right and make a better impression, I find the paperwork for classroom accidents tedious. And Minerva refuses to let me assign the paperwork as detention for the dunderhead in question to drive the point home."
Hermione laughed, then took a bite of spaghetti and chewed thoughtfully. "I'm surprised you didn't ask for the Defense post."
Severus snorted. "I don't want it. I wanted it before, as I knew Potter was incoming, and Dumbledore insisted on hiring the incompetent, insane, or murderous. Now, however, there is little need. Besides, I prefer potions for the older years."
They both chewed quietly before Hermione spoke again.
"I'm glad you're able to maintain your O requirement for N.E.W.T.-level," she told him. "I was so pleased when I passed my OWLs to your standards. You won't believe how annoyed I was that Slughorn would take an E!"
"I believe I do know."
Severus was rather disgruntled at that himself. His own N.E.W.T. years would have been easier had certain students not been able to follow him into that class as well. "Those taking a N.E.W.T. level Potions class usually intend to go into fields that would require knowledge of Potions, be it use, recognition, or brewing. I don't know about you, but I would rather an Auror going through my things would be able to tell a poison from a mouthwash, and that my healer would know how to brew a proper healing potion."
Hermione laughed at the amount of venom in his voice as she sopped spaghetti sauce off her plate with the end of her bread.
"I have to agree. I can't tell you how many times while I was still at the Ministry that Ron would come running down with a phial and go ''Mione, what's this?' Drove me crazy. I'm so glad he left that job."
"I don't doubt it."
"He's gotten better about learning on his own now. And Harry actually started to make an effort, which was nice."
Severus wondered again just how the boy had managed to pass his N.E.W.T. level Potions. His lip curled and Hermione, blessedly, said nothing about his expression.
"Shite," Severus said suddenly. "If we go through with your suggestion, you'd want to invite your friends over, wouldn't you?"
Hermione tilted her head. "Probably, yes. And I will have to tolerate the Malfoys, I expect."
He glowered at the remainders of his meal. He didn't particularly like the thought of Potter and Weasley wandering about his quarters or home.
"I don't see how it could be a problem, though," Hermione said. "I doubt my friends will be comfortable coming over, especially since you terrify Ron, and Harry's still trying to get on your good side. And if they do, we could close off any areas we don't want them in. Just limit them to the sitting room or dining room or something. Merlin knows I don't let them wander all over my chambers. I can't imagine giving them access to yours without your permission."
Well, that made him feel a little better.
"I mean, you have mellowed—don't glare at me, it's true—quite a bit since the end of the war, so I
don't think they'd insist on threatening to 'take care of me or else' or interrogate you. Their paramours would like them alive, I think. And honestly I would probably just visit their homes, instead. I won't force you to go, either. If you wanted to go with me, you could, but why force it? I've been seeing them alone this long." Hermione finally paused for breath. "And I confess that I likely wouldn't be able to go over to Malfoy Manor with you, not even if you bribed me with books."
Severus nodded. He could understand that: he set foot on the Astronomy Tower as infrequently as possible. If she could handle Lucius and Cissy stopping by for tea, he supposed he could tolerate her set of friends once in a while, or be elsewhere.
Merlin's spangled robes, he was seriously considering her proposal. With a sigh, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tell me what you have in mind in terms of children."
"I do want them," Hermione said quietly. "Not more than two. I'm amenable to hiring a Free-Elf to nanny so you wouldn't have to worry about them underfoot in the lab. I've never really dealt with a baby for more than a few hours, though, so I would probably benefit the most from the help."
"You seem to have given this much thought."
"Just today, really. I never thought I would be married. I've always wanted children, but was starting to put the thought on the 'never going to happen' shelf in my mind. That article has made me think about it again. I don't know whether to hate the news or be grateful."
He nodded, feeling rather mute and sick to his stomach. He could tolerate a child, he thought. Or two, if she was adamant about a second. Severus had no doubt that he could nurture a child, and would be capable of loving his own offspring. His problem with children lay in their creation and Hogwarts-age children who should bloody well know how to follow directions.
"This is terribly sudden," he managed to say.
"And time is short," Hermione agreed, taking another bite. There was something almost mechanical about the way she ate her meal. Good, she was as nervous about all of this ridiculousness as he.
"I have two concerns that need to be addressed," he said, steepling his fingers in front of his chin.
"Sure," Hermione said.
"We don't know if we can share a bed."
"We can give it a try tonight, or we can sleep in separate beds. You don't seem to snore very loudly, and I don't know if I do at all. I do snuggle, though."
"You've warned me," Severus said wryly. "The other is the ceremony itself—Wizarding vows usually require … consummation."
Hermione snorted and looked at him, exasperation in her brown eyes. "So we'll have a Muggle ceremony. We can even run off to Gretna Green. When the Prophet finally catches on, they'll call it 'romantic' and blame my upbringing."
Severus blinked and leaned back in his chair, crossing his long legs at the ankle. "I hadn't considered that. It would be perfectly legal."
"Of course. Sometimes I think you live in this world too much."
He shrugged minutely, quirking a brow. "It suits me."
"True. I can't imagine you standing in line at Tesco's on Sundays and handing a bank card over to the clerk."
Severus looked insulted. "I should hope not." He looked away for a long moment. "And should the law not come to pass?"
"I think that depends on us, and we can discuss it then. I think we're both logical people. I mean, look at how we're approaching this," Hermione pointed out.
She wanted to thank him for being honest and open with her, but at this point in their friendship knew better than to say anything. "We're rational adults capable of making life-altering decisions."
Severus was silent, watching her. He was obviously mulling things over behind his Occlumency shields: his eyes were blank and emotionless. Hermione set about finishing her dinner and clearing away the dishes instead. If there was one thing she'd learned over the years, it was that you didn't push Severus Snape into things. She witnessed at least one shouting match a year between Minerva and him when the Headmistress tried. Hermione counted it a massive victory for Severus that he had learned to push back when people tried to guilt or manipulate him into things.
"I believe we are, yes. I am...hesitant to accept your offer still." Merlin, it killed him to say that.
"It's not my offer, it's an idea."
"You are offering to move in with me, share a bed with me, raise children with me, and tolerate the backlash sure to follow. I may be under less stress in recent memory, but I can't imagine that I would be pleasant once the Prophet caught wind of our wedding."
Oh, definitely not pleasant. He would have to have his mail directed to Minerva again. Sod it all.
"By the time the Prophet finds out about a Muggle ceremony, that ridiculous Marriage Law is going to be creating all sorts of weird marriages," Hermione said practically. "Ours will probably become a side note until someone checks the date on the certificate, though."
A flick of her wand and the dishes started to wash themselves as she placed leftovers into new bowls under stasis charms. "And Severus, you're not a pleasant fellow half the time even now. I remember you in school, and I've been working with you for four years. I know precisely what you're like, and I also usually know when to ignore your insults and when to pick a fight."
"And yet you're so easily riled. I still can't believe—"
"Don't restart the debate on Scratching's theorems now, it's beside the point!" She was smiling, however. "You're a nasty, bitter, antisocial man half the time. However, I'm a bossy bookworm better suited to knitting a scarf to strangle you with rather than resorting to poison, so you'll have plenty of warning."
Severus chuckled. He'd been the recipient of one of her lumpy gifts, and actually used the wool cap on occasion to gather Icebloom from the edges of the forest. He didn't wear it, but it was softer than a basket for the delicate herbs.
"Honestly, though, I think it can work, if there's enough space in your quarters for us both," She finished.
"Once I'm allowed back down there I can see what I can rearrange to make room for your things and see what I will need to remove to storage." He paused. "Assuming tonight goes well, and I don't choke on your hair in my sleep. It would certainly save the yarn from the torture you call knitting."
Hermione just laughed and shook her head.
Bedtime had suddenly become awkward, Hermione thought. As usual, she went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and changed. Intentionally, she put on her worst pyjama pants, the ones with the hole in the rear, and her most worn and faded top. If she was going to contemplate sleeping next to Severus Snape for the rest of her life, she may as well come as she was. She didn't braid her hair, either, figuring that she didn't always, so if this was a test she may as well do it honestly.
Severus barely gave her attire a second glance as he took his turn heading into the washroom. It took him nearly a half-hour, making her fret that he'd flown out the window or something, before he emerged in the long grey nightshirt she was used to seeing on him on the occasional emergency when she had late rounds and caught out one of his students.
She was unsurprised to see him clasping a book. He scowled at her. "You're on my side."
Biting back a nervous laugh, Hermione moved to the right side of the bed. She didn't care which side she slept on. When he continued to watch her, she patted the covers. "Come on in, the sheets are nice and warm."
Severus shifted from foot to foot then seemed to resign himself to it and pulled back the duvet to slide into the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight, and soon they sat in bed together, each of them pushing pillows behind their back to read. She pretended not to notice that he was refusing to come even within the range of body heat. It had to be a big shift for him. For her, it was nice to have someone there again.
His shoulders were tense, and Severus rolled them as he read. He felt far too vulnerable. Granted, this was Hermione Granger, the woman he had been friends with for four years without shoving him off the nearest tower, and had managed to maintain her classroom without resorting to his tactics. If anyone could tolerate living with him, it was her.
Then again...this was Hermione Granger, the woman who had survived a war, hexed a girl to the point St. Mungo's had given up, and kept a woman in a glass jar. If he kicked in his sleep or woke up startled he would probably find his end as a greasy smear on the floor.
...It would save him from the Ministry's folly, at least.
Hermione peeked at him as surreptitiously as possible. He wasn't running or making an excuse to return to the sofa, which was a good sign. Content with having him there, she fell into her book until her eyes started to burn.
Blinking rapidly, she yawned and set her book on the nightstand. "Goodnight, Severus. Put the candles out when you're done."
"Hmm," was the noncommittal reply from her bedpartner. Hermione tossed the extra pillow to the floor and wriggled until she could lay down properly, turning onto her side and pulling the blankets up to her shoulder. The candles on her side went out and she closed her eyes gratefully. She had problems sleeping with a light on.
A few moments later, she heard Severus shut his book and set it on his side's nightstand with a quiet thump. His reading glasses were close behind, and soon the bed shifted as he lay down. The rest of the candles were extinguished and the last vestiges of light were gone from behind her closed lids.
His breathing was nice and even, steady in the darkness. Hermione found it oddly comforting. She curled into her pillow, rubbing her cheek against it. She was silent for several moments before she heard it: "Goodnight, Hermione."
She smiled.
Severus lay awake long after she had fallen asleep. Her bed was larger than his own, something he would have to remedy should they go through with her marriage idea, but while the experience was unusual it was not...unpleasant. She had been slowly moving closer after falling asleep, and now her hair tickled his arm, but he could ignore the sensation.
How could Hermione lay there, asleep, so easily? He felt vulnerable… insecure… with another's presence. Could he grow used to it? Possibly. But it was so very odd. He doubted he could ever fall asleep despite the weariness pressing down upon him.
Beside him, Hermione shifted, turning over in the bed. He tensed. She made a soft little hum and nuzzled his shoulder. Well, that wasn't terrible. Slowly, Severus relaxed, then froze again as she moved closer. Soon she was pressing into his arm with a happy sigh.
Severus jogged his shoulder, but she wasn't dislodged. He frowned into the darkness, his uneven teeth grating. Damn it. He moved away, but she followed shortly after. He reached the edge of the mattress and still she curled up next to him, her head uncomfortable on his arm. Merlin's knees, he was too bony for this.
He let out an annoyed huff as the minutes passed. She had warned him, at the very least. Still, he was losing feeling in his arm very quickly. Perhaps...
Severus carefully extricated his arm, lifting it up and allowing her to move closer. When Hermione's head pillowed on his shoulder and still allowed blood flow into his arm, he lowered it around her upper back. Her own arm crept around his waist and she mumbled incoherently before falling silent.
Now that he had sensation back, this was not...unpleasant. He was unused to contact, but it was comforting, now, to have someone warm to hold. Perhaps this—he yawned, his jaw cracking—would be manageable long-term. Severus sighed, his eyes finally closing.
When Severus woke, it was just past dawn, per usual. Hermione was a warm weight against his side and across his chest, her hair fluffing out and more or less absorbing her crooked pillow. He was surprised that he had slept the night through. Even now, he still found himself waking during the nights in a sweat or in worry. But this had been...well, he could certainly live with it.
Maybe.
He spat hair out of his mouth and scowled into the pale morning light.
"I forgot, I'm headed into London today," Hermione said, tossing things into a purse. "Do you need anything?"
Severus looked up, frowning, then added a powdery substance that she couldn't identify from the doorway.
"London? Why?"
She made a face. "Therapy, still. It's once a quarter now but I still nearly forgot until this morning."
"Ah." She watched him stir. "My own appointments are in London as well, but not until the end of the month."
He sounded just as happy about it as she was. Then again, her therapy had been self-imposed a few years ago, whereas his was Healer-and-Headmistress-ordered once he had recovered from his injuries. It had certainly made a difference, though, Hermione had to admit. For both of them. She remembered last year when he had actually complimented a Ravenclaw on her potion and the girl had nearly fainted. Actually, what he had said was: "I see your potion is not as abysmal as your classmates'. Perhaps there's a chance that you could become proficient." So...a compliment, for him. Hermione had laughed at his disgruntled demeanor. Still, it was an improvement.
"Would you mind stopping by the apothecary? I ran out of Wiggentree bark and had to borrow some of yours. I could use a few other ingredients, as well." Severus put down his stirring rod.
"Of course. Anything else?"
He grimaced. "I can write a list, rather than relying solely upon your memory. When do you need to leave?"
"I can wait a few minutes, do you need me to stir?"
"No, but when it turns cerulean—and I mean completely, not most of it—add four marcel pods and a pinch of ginger."
"Will do." She wrestled her hair back quickly and switched spots with him.
Severus strode out of the room, and she heard him rummaging at her desk for parchment she hadn't yet scribbled on.
"Third drawer, left side," she called.
"Your desk is a mess," came the surly reply. She giggled. "How you manage to keep the abominable pile of your notes and plans in such a state, I cannot guess."
Hermione recognised that as a compliment to her usual tidiness and let his attitude go. She had seen his office, and how he found anything in that catastrophe was beyond her. It was only ever tidy at the beginning and end of the school year. The rest of the time it was a jumble of books, parchment, quills, empty ink wells—red, mostly—and the occasional plate of sandwich crumbs.
The edges of the potion started to turn blue and the change swept rapidly over the surface. Soon it went from blue to a true cerulean and she quickly added the ingredients as requested. "They're in! Should I stir or leave it sit?"
"Leave it. I'll be back before the pods burst."
"All right."
Hermione sat down on the stool so she could watch it, wondering what he was making. She didn't see a recipe, just a bunch of calculations she had done for him and a pile of illegible notes in his cramped writing.
"Is this something new?"
"No. Thought-clarifying potion. I've modified the base and I'm going to change the final steps of it, as well, to see if it will be more effective."
"Is there any particular reason why you're working on mind-related potions?" Hermione wondered.
"Stop interrupting, I'm trying to think," came the curt reply. After a moment, he spoke again. "The base changes are similar to the other one I was working on. As my notes on that are currently off for validation, I may as well move to the next potion before some coattail-riding dunderhead tries to step in and make improvements to my own work before I have the chance."
Severus came briskly back into the lab, folding a piece of parchment. Hermione took it from him, as well as a small yet heavy bag that jingled. "There should be plenty there. Try to argue that old blowhard down on the astridophae beetle antennae if you can, however. The bastard usually wants five Knuts each, when he pays three Knuts for a lot of eighteen."
"I'll try." She hopped down off the stool, watching Severus waft the potion's fumes carefully towards his hooked nose. "Anything else?"
He tilted his head, considering, before adding another pinch of ginger and making a mark on his parchment. "I wouldn't turn down biscuits."
"Any preference?" Hermione asked. She hadn't intended to stop off for sweets, but she would take his request as a sign that she very much should stop off somewhere. Maybe an assortment of sweets...her period was coming soon, after all. It couldn't hurt to have something on hand for that.
"Something that doesn't taste like skrewt shite."
"Right."
"I also wrote down a few titles. Flourish's should have them."
"Oh good, I was planning on going there right after."
Severus snorted. "When do you not stop off for books?"
Hermione sighed. "That's true." If she didn't stop off in a bookstore, she was probably ill. "Unless it's closed, I usually go."
Hermione watched him chop dried sweet pea blossoms, fascinated at how quick and precise he was, before she checked her watch.
"I'm off."
He grunted, clearly counting something in his head, and she headed out of the castle and into the overcast summer day.