Chapter Eighty-Four
Bad Blood by Taylor Swift
"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Severus asked, as he slapped his hand over Hermione's before she could hand over the copies of their personal photographs. "It's not too late, a simple wipe of ever having set this meeting and no one will be the wiser."
"Severus, we can have this conversation again but you and I both know this is our only viable play. Where we are now, will have us constantly reacting. At least this way we control how much of the truth gets out and when," Hermione reasoned, yanking her hand out from under his.
"You write what she tells you and only what she tells you. Otherwise, you'll be spending your days in a far worse state than trapped in a jar as a beetle," he threatened before handing the photos over to Rita Skeeter's eagerly awaiting hands.
While she quickly shuffled through the real photos from 1979, and the staged ones from their weekend in France, Hermione checked the redacted copies she made of Regulus's will one last time before turning those over to Skeeter's greedy hands as well. Their story, or the version they were crafting, would no doubt break sales records for the Daily Prophet, come Monday morning.
"Whatever you're about to tell me will be far better than anything I could have ever made up," Skeeter replied, pulling out her chartreuse quill and ringed parchment. "Where would you like to begin?"
After several hours of recanting a modified truth of their relationship to Rita Skeeter, Severus helped Hermione into her coat, kissing the side of her neck as he swept her hair over the collar, before they exited through the back of the muggle coffee shop they had used for their meeting to disapparate. A soft layer of snow fell around them as she turned to face him with a beaming smile, excited to be free of at least part of the lie they were presenting tomorrow. Threading her fingers through the ends of his hair, she scraped her nails along his scalp, bringing forth a rumbling purr from his throat as he shifted his head from hand to hand chasing the affection.
The way such simple touches had him melting into the palm of her hands, stoked a fire in Hermione's core. Stepping closer to him, she licked the hollow of his throat making his hands fist at her hips. In response, he gave a soft thrust that pushed her back into the brick wall of the alleyway as he dipped his head down to her ear.
"Since we have little more than twelve hours till our secret is out for all of Wizarding Britain to read, how about we skip dinner at Glencoe and go straight to bed? We did spend nearly all weekend with Cissy and her wolf. Besides by this time tomorrow, the entire populace within the gates of Hogwarts, outside of it too for that matter, will be conspiring to get the Brightest-Witch-of-Her-Age free from the clutches of her old, perverted professor. We won't get a moment alone for weeks probably," he tried to persuade, rubbing against her with just enough friction to drive her mad.
"That is tempting," she murmured, trying to maintain her focus.
Hermione groaned as his hand slipped into her coat and up her sweater, his fingers trailing up her glamoured waist and working their way under the wire of her bra. He had said some of his insatiable appetite stemmed from feeling their bond snap back into place between them; however, after the weekend away with him where he made sure they christened every room that wasn't housing their guests, she was beginning to not believe him. His constant need to touch her in some way and keep her as close as possible, reassured the part of her that had worried after passing seventeen years without her, his feelings would have faded if not diminished entirely. So even though she needed to return to classes to get some rest, she wouldn't complain, choosing to revel in his attentions instead.
Making things worse on herself, she offered her breasts up higher to him, her mouth parting in a silent moan as he began to roll her nipple between his fingers.
With a hissed out breath, she fought her mind for clarity as she spoke, "I would agree with you but I did not plan this very well."
"Hmm?" He hummed, planting soft kisses along her collar bone as he pulled at her sweater.
"Oh fuck... Harry," she sighed, dropping her hands to the zipper of his denims, vowing to be responsible as soon as they were done.
"What?" Severus growled, slapping her hands away from him.
"Ow, that stung," Hermione scolded, swatting him on the chest before he could step back from her. "What's the matter with you?"
Her husband's dark eyes clouded with possession, as he looked down at her and her concealed belly as though the absence of being able to see where he had been offended him.
"You mean other than my wife moaning Potter's fucking name?"
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh as she rolled her eyes.
Thirty-seven years old, and still a jealous, possessive, beast.
"You're damn, fucking right I am," he growled, grabbing her wrists and raising her arms above her head as he crowded into her space, leaving sharp bites on her exposed skin. "Now why the fuck are you thinking of someone else?"
She let out a sigh that was half exasperation and half excitement as he undid the button and zip on her denims, his fingers slipping between her thighs, gliding over her opening. He began teasing the bundle of nerves at her apex, making it stiffen and throb in response to his attention. Rocking her hips into the touch, she whined when he drew his fingers back from her.
"Answer," he commanded, his voice laced with dark silk.
"I just meant... Fuck... I meant that I need to tell... Damn it Severus, either finish what you're doing or pull away," she begged.
He let out a dark chuckle that made her body relax even more within his hold, hoping he would choose to finish.
"Fine," he conceded, with a wicked smile as he pulled his hand free.
"You are an evil man, Severus Snape," Hermione complained, dropping her head to his chest in defeat.
She wrapped her arms low on his waist and burrowed herself into his open coat, rubbing her cheek against the soft knit of his sweater. His hands came around the back of her neck, untangling the two chains before removing the quartz stone that hung hidden in the valley of her breasts. After a moment she had to take a step back to accommodate Nova's reappearance. With the glamour gone his hand came down to rest along the side of her belly, the tension melting from him instantly.
""You know, I was only trying to say that I can't be tied to your bed all night because I have to tell Harry before tomorrow morning. It's already going to be explosive when the post comes, but if he isn't warned ahead of time, I may as well say goodbye to his friendship."
"Fine," he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he trailed his hand over her belly. "Just keep this off for now," he countered, pocketing the amulet.
Hermione smiled up at his petulant face shaking her head at him as she tucked herself into his side and prepared for the pull of apparation. He had been possessive from nearly the moment they had met and when the need to conceal her pregnancy arose the streak amplified. She was happy he had come around to her idea about outing their marriage because she was sure he wouldn't have made it the month without doing it himself, his need to always have some sort of visible claim on her blinding at times.
"Yes, well you spend the last two and a half years being teased by my underage self and watching me lust after someone who isn't you, and let's see how you fair at the end of it."
"I did not lust after anyone," Hermione retorted, smothering her laughter.
"You're fucking quidditch player," he snapped, before sucking them through space to land before the gates of Glencoe.
"You and I both know nothing came of that," she said with a pointed look.
"Still had to see it," he growled, draping an arm over her shoulder as they walked up the path.
For as beautiful as Glencoe was, Hermione was already feeling a keen longing to go back to their home in France, Narcissa's Highland manor being a little too close to their problems for her to truly love it. When an overly active Nova had woken her up early that morning, she had gone into the nursery and lost herself in the fantasy of how things could be and not how they were. Just like their honeymoon, the boiling tension and the demands placed upon them because of it had melted away and the peace she felt tempted her to stay.
Once upon a time, she had harbored ambitions of teaching and becoming the next head of Gryffindor till she could make the move to headmistress. Or possibly go into the Ministry and climb her way up the ladder of reform until she made her home within the Minister of Magic's office. While she sat curled up in the armchair, her book on magical child rearing forgotten, she tried to picture that life for herself but found it lacking. What came to her instead was a vision that a year ago would have had her laughing at the very idea of it. Now she knew that if the Mirror of Erised still resided within that dusty, forgotten room of Hogwarts Harry had found it in, it would show her the no longer absurd reality she yearned for.
Her desire didn't erase her want for the war to end, for Voldemort to be defeated and for Harry to live, for magical creatures to be afforded basic rights within their world, or to learn as much as she possibly could about magic. It merely made her look at what she valued the most in life, something she had thought she had already figured out before her journey. Some things were truly structural to her as a person and would remain a part of her no matter how her life changed and grew, those being the very makeup of her foundation. The rest she had thought was layered into her ground work but walking into the manor and hearing the family she had built for herself bickering and feeling Nova's excited kicks at their voices showed her how true Severus's words were about ambition. It was not always a drive for power, status, and wealth.
"You got quiet," Severus observed, removing her coat. "What were you thinking about?"
Sitting down to unzip her boots, she answered, "How different things are now. How different I am. It's not just in the small ways of wanting to look at baby things and read up on everything we could possibly ever need to know about infants but the bigger things. At least I thought they were big things before. How ambition and what drives a person can change so drastically and within such a small period of time. It's not as though the things I wanted before I couldn't still have one day but those dreams and goals aren't important now. They don't feel right.
"And then there's the part of me that feels like a coward and a horrible friend to Harry because all weekend in the back of my mind, I kept thinking, 'What if we didn't come back?'"
He squatted down before her, resting his hands on her knees as he captured her gaze with his deep eyes. Like her arrival in 1979, he was different from how she had seen him most recently, but his eyes no matter the time still held her as their willing prisoner. To anyone else they looked cold and unforgiving but she could see the shine in them, the emotion and deep thought that made them appear fathomless. She was sure that even after her dying day their dark, obsidian color would always draw her in, beckoning her home to him.
"You are anything but a coward, Hermione. You may have wanted to stay in the past and you may have wanted to not leave our home, but you did. And we may be manipulating our circumstances to get at least some of what we desire, but none of that makes you a coward.
"You Gryffindors seem to think that to be courageous you must be fearless. In truth you must only be able to act for that which is more important than your fear.
"Now come on it sounds like we need to go break up whatever is going on in there."
Hermione laughed in spite of herself, as she heard a loud thump come from the living room followed by Theo scolding Draco and Tippy's high voice though her words were unclear before her pop of disappearance echoed into the foyer.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Severus called out as they approached the large opening.
"Umm... Well you see..." Draco started before something crashed to the ground. "Ah fuck, mum's going to have my wand for that," he swore.
"I'm not helping you two if you broke Cissy's vase," she laughed, turning into the room.
The vase was in fact in shards on the floor but it was what was to the left of it that had her drawing up short in the entrance, making Severus collide into her back. Struggling on his side while bound to a dining chair was Harry still sweaty from his quidditch practice, a blindfold falling off his eyes from where it hadn't been tied properly.
"Shite Hermione, are you okay?" Severus asked, as he grasped her shoulders to steady her from where he knocked her forward.
She silently nodded her head in shock as the sound of her name drew her best friend's attention from his stare down with a masked Draco and Theo to her.
How quickly his shock was replaced with loathing had her world tilting on its axis. This was the very thing she had wanted to avoid because once Harry entered the state of blind rage he was slipping into now, he was near unreachable till he came down from it.
"I can't fucking believe this!" He yelled, renewing his struggle against the ropes that kept him tied to the chair. "Ron was right about you! I told him you couldn't possibly be with these... these... these snakes, but here you are, you traitorous bitch!"
His words landed on her like a slap to the face, making her recoil into Severus's arms. Screwing her eyes shut against the tears she turned into his hold and tapped her head against his chest several times. His hand came around to cradle her in place as she forced her tears to not spill, his lips pressing to the top of her head before he addressed Harry with the icy voice he normally reserved for when he was about to be around the Dark Lord and his followers.
"Watch your tongue, Potter. Words in anger cannot be taken back and you will find I am much less forgiving than my wife."
"Oh this is just fucking great, your husband is Snape? What, Voldemort was already taken?" Harry seethed.
At the use of the Dark Lord's name she heard Draco hiss in pain and felt Severus flex his left hand against her head before relaxing again. With a deep breath she stepped out of his hold and turned back to face her friend. However the final nail in the coffin of Harry's temper came before she could say a word to him.
"YOU'RE FUCKING PREGNANT?"