Hermione had decided she would let no one keep her down and that she would pull herself out of bed this fine morning and head to class. She wouldn't let anything anyone said get to her and it would be like water off of a duck's back. At least, that is the lie she told herself, so she would seize the day and move forward with her life. Dread was gnawing at her stomach, and anxiety skyrocketed the closer she got to the hall for breakfast.

Entering the hall, everyone fell silent as she walked in, and she felt as if every pair of eyes were upon her before whispers erupted as she walked to the Gryffindor table. Sitting down, she tried to eat, but a gnawing in the pit of her stomach was preventing her from doing so. Nibbling on a small piece of toast to settle her stomach, she couldn't help but feel like she was a leaper amongst the general population of students. Of course, she knew this would happen; she knew people would talk and whisper and rumours would float around. Of course, they would. It was human nature to be curious. She was the first student in the history of Hogwarts to marry their professor and it was almost a taboo subject.

"Is it true?" A third-year Gryffindor sidled up beside her casually as if she were his best friend.

"Is what true?" Hermione asked, annoyed.

"That you're pregnant?" He lowered his voice to a whisper.

"What? No," Hermione bit. "Now get out of here," she scolded him.

Already the rumour mill was running at full capacity, and she wondered if people honestly believed that she would have as much as touched Severus Snape, let alone sleep with him within the first week of being married to him.

Scowling, she hauled herself up from her seat and stormed back across the hall casting a dark, angry look at Severus as she did so and he sat wondering what on earth he had done to deserve such hostility at this early hour of the morning.

She bit her own tongue in utter anger as she stomped her way back to the dungeons for her first class of the day-potions. She pushed the door to the classroom open and navigated herself to a seat at the back, something totally out of character for her but she didn't want to have to eyeball the source of her anguish sitting a foot away from her for the entire lesson.

"What was that about?" The bitter tone of Severus cut her to the core and startled her. Turning her head just enough to see him walking through the classroom door.

"Apparently I am pregnant already," she huffed, exhaling out of her nose she folded her arms across her chest and slumped forward towards the desk.

"While I admire your determination to roll out of bed and face the world head-on like I knew you would, I am disappointed in your lack of ability to let rumours get to you, Hermione." He sat at his desk, steepling his fingers and resting his elbows on his desk.

"I know," she sighed, "I am trying, really I am, but when the moment I walk into the hall and I have someone sidle up to me and ask me, it really threw me."

"It does not do one well to dwell upon the opinion and rumours of sheep, Hermione."

She smiled softly. "You sound more like Dumbledore than Dumbledore ever did."

"I know. It scares me to some days when I talk, and it comes out sounding exactly like him. All those years spent with him have rubbed off on me, I suppose." The sound of footsteps walking down the corridor towards them roused him from their conversation. "I must digress; however, we have a lesson to learn."
She admired Severus for the way he could switch his personality at the drop of a hat. One moment he was being civil with her and the next it was all business, and she knew that is how it had to be, not only for herself but for him as well.

o-o-o-o-o

Knocking gently on his classroom door, he looked up momentarily. The surly look he had ready on his face softened just so when he realised who it was.

"Can I work in here?" She asked gently, stepping through the door and closing it behind her.

He gestured to a desk, "I don't see why not." The truth was, he was hoping she would come and sit with him. He was getting used to her company in a weird and comforting way after always being alone for so long with nothing but his own thoughts. It was a pleasant change.

"Thank you. I just need to finish up the potion from your class today. I thought a few others would be down here doing the same thing."

He snorted loudly in amusement. "No one ever comes down to finish their potion in their own time and then they whine when they fall behind in class. You cannot help those who don't wish to help themselves." He looked up from the parchment he was scrawling on and watched her intently as she gathered her cauldron and supplies fastidiously. Hermione was and always had been one of and probably the best student he had ever had the pleasure of teaching and he wasn't saying that because she was his wife now, he admired her for her ability to knuckle down and never shy from the task at hand and for that he felt guilt gnaw at him, what if he was the one that took away any chance of her rising to the greatness he knew she could because she had to marry him?

"You need to sprinkle it in," he said, twenty minutes later, looking back up from the parchment. "It's better to sprinkle the powdered unicorn horn rather than just dumping it in."

"Thanks…" she trailed off, wondering how long he had been watching her for, and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Not like that," he startled her ten minutes later, "you want to crush the lionfish spines, not cut them."

Hermione huffed and placed the knife she had in her hand down on the desk. "Do you want to come over here and do this for me, or can I do it myself?"

"Well, if it means it will be executed correctly, then yes, I will come over there and do it for you."

She narrowed her eyes slightly in disdain. "Do you correct every single student that gets it wrong, or is it just me?"

"Just you," he confessed, "you're my wife-" he stopped for a moment, those three words on his tongue almost burned like acid as he spoke them, "it's not in my nature to help students out of the goodness of my blackened heart but because our relationship, although strained, runs deeper than professor and student I feel I can critique you on things."

"Well," she took a deep breath, "I am more than capable of doing this on my own and I would appreciate it if you left me to it."

"Fine." He held his hands up defensively. "If that's what you wish, but if the roles were reversed and I had a Potions Master offering to help me out, I'd jump at the chance."

She quirked a brow. "Well, lucky the roles aren't reversed then."

She went back to brewing, and he begrudgingly went back to the parchment. The incessant scratching of quill over paper was akin to nails on a chalkboard to Hermione whilst she was trying to concentrate. Every scratch on the paper was driving her closer and closer to reaching across and tearing his head from his shoulders as her potion quickly veered from satisfactory to defunct and she couldn't dig her way out of this one without his help but she sure as hell would not ask him. She was too proud for that.

He looked up again and noticed the scowl planted firmly on her face as she feverishly stirred the liquid in the cauldron, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He deduced by the pure anger etched into every line of her face and how she was aggressively stirring that it was not going to plan.

"Here," he said, slightly frustrated. "Let me help," he offered, knowing full well she was too proud to ask for the help that she needed.

Standing, he walked behind her. Gently he placed a hand on her shoulder without thought and leaned down, grasping her hand in his own. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch, and he noticed her fingers jolted as he touched them. "You need to stir it upwards like this," he guided her hand in a flicking motion, both watching as the colour of the liquid turned from a brown to a shimmering amber as it should be.

"Should you be helping me? Doesn't this cross a line of some constitution you vowed to uphold when you began teaching?"

"I can assure you; we take no vow or promise to uphold a moral code when we are invited to teach here, we are only informed that our moral compass must be calibrated right and we are to not engage in anything other than a strictly professional relationship with our students… Until the ministry comes along and basically does a backflip on that last rule," he said, bitterly.

She could feel the rumble of his chest pressed against her back as he spoke and his hot breath on her face. Her skin fluttered beneath his touch, and she had to fight not to pull from his grip. It felt unnatural to her to be in such proximity to him after years of keeping her distance.

Severus wasn't sure what was wrong with him. He had a young woman as his wife who was intelligent and not too hard on the eye, and he wanted nothing to do with her sexually or romantically and he could only attribute that to the fact he didn't want to fall for her, and he didn't want her to fall for him. If he drove a wedge in between them early then keeping her away would be easier in the long run, of course, when they had to sleep together he knew that would be when the trouble would start and he knew he could keep his heart out of it but could she do the same?

It would be a fantasy of many men to be in this situation, a teacher in power and in the position to sleep with the younger girl, taking her over the desk, thrusting into her so hard that each thrust drove the desk further across the room as she screamed his name, velvet walls tightening as he emptied his seed within.

He had to pull himself from his thoughts in a rush because they were sounding tantalising, and he couldn't have himself giving in to the temptation. Now he was noticing the light scent of coconut and cherry coming from her hair and the soft dulcet tones of lavender and vanilla playing upon her skin, and every fibre of his being was screaming at him to step away from her but a minuscule part of him was clawing its way deep from his dark depths and enticing him to touch her, to kiss her and he tried to push that feeling away again.

Turning her head just so, she found herself with her lips mere millimetres from his own. Swallowing hard, her heart hammered hard against her chest. Never had she been in such proximity to him before, with millimetres between their lips that could change everything as she knew it, and she didn't know what she should do. Yes, he was her husband, and yes, eventually they would have to sleep with one another, but for now, he had made it abundantly clear he wanted nary a thing to do with her.

"I… Is that all?" She asked him softly, trying to project a calmness on the outside that was not matching what she at all felt on the inside.

Do it. Kiss her. The voice that he had tried to silence was clawing its way back from the depths, and he didn't like it. For years he had pushed the voice of his desires deep down and away from where he couldn't hear them, no longer wanting to give in to the temptations that life threw at him, and he liked it that way. Now, now she comes along and the voice that he had easily kept at bay was rearing its head and he didn't like it.

"That's all." He stood frozen to the spot, battling internally with himself what he should do. Why was he denying himself a simple pleasure? They were married, and it was more than warranted, but the small niggle in the back of his mind of her being his student and he was her teacher were stopping it. Pulling away he took two steps before he stopped again.

"Why do you hate me so?" Her voice was barely audible.

Pausing, he registered what she had said and turned back. "What makes you think I hate you?"

"What makes me think you don't?" She countered, narrowing her eyes just a little to show her disdain. "You just had the ample opportunity to kiss me and instead you pull away as if I repulse you."

"And why would I do that? You wouldn't have welcomed it, there is nothing between us, so I felt no need to do such a thing." He lied.

"I'm just saying you had the perfect chance to kiss me, and you chose not to. You know eventually, we must sleep together and that would have been a less-than-awkward lead into that. That's all." Her shoulders rose high in a shrug as she pulled the stirring rod from the potion and laid it down on the desk.

"And I'm saying there is no need to rush into anything," his tone slightly annoyed.

"Who are you trying to protect here?" She asked curiously, "You or me?"

"I'm not protecting anyone, Hermione," he lied again.

"Ok then," she said stiffly, pressing him under her heavy gaze and not believing a word he was saying.

He growled low in his throat, frustrated. He knew she would never drop the subject. Turning to face her, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers in one quick motion. His internal dialogue told him to run and never look back, but the desire that had reared its ugly head before told him to hold steadfast and keep kissing her.

Eye widened, she jumped back slightly in shock, not expecting him to do it, and she almost slid off the back of the chair. Lightning fast and without breaking the kiss he grasped her tightly around the waist and steadied her picking her up with relative ease and placed her on the desk sending the cauldron toppling and skittering along the stone floor before it come to an abrupt halt hitting the leg of a stool, her hard work all but destroyed as it lay dripping off the edge of the table onto the floor below.

Every part of her told her to pull away, but a small niggling part glued her to the table, unable to move as she welcomes the titillating caress of his lips upon her own.

Heart hammering in her chest, she inhaled through her nose sharply as the kiss turned from innocent to a kiss of desire. Tangling her hands in the inky darkness of his hair, he ran his tongue along her lower lip, his hands now so tight on her waist as he held onto her hungrily.

Severus pulled her tighter against his body. If this is what she wanted, this is what she was going to get. She had truly awaked the desire within him and it had been far too long since he had blown his load and if the opportunity came knocking, who was he to say no? Just once. Just this once he would give in to the harsh grasp of temptation and then he would never touch her again until he absolutely had to.

This felt so right and so wrong all at the same time but was perfectly acceptable given that she was his wife, even if it felt as if he were breaking fifty rules of taboo doing so. He was fighting an internal battle in his head the more he kissed her. If he slept with her, the dynamics of their relationship would change, and he wasn't sure if he could handle that right now. He pushed the thoughts of reason away.

Pulling from the kiss he brushed curls away from her neck, exposing the bare nape, without a second thought he brushed his lips tenderly against the bare, sensitive flesh and she sucked in a breath of surprise angling her head away allowing him to kiss her neck easier.

"Have you ever been with anyone?" He asked, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"N…No," she choked out in a husky whisper.

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. He could see fear mingled with uncertainty and just the slightest hint of curiosity. "Last chance to back out," he warned.

"I'm fin-" A knock on the classroom door roused, both akin to deer in headlights Severus stepped away from her, Hermione slid off the desk and back onto her stool fastidiously smoothing her hands over her skirt, smoothing the material back into place.

Severus stalked back to his desk, waving his hand as he did so, sending her cauldron and the contents of it sailing back onto the desk as if nothing had happened.

"Come in," he barked gruffly. The heavy door creaked on its hinges. Of course, Draco had never once before taken advantage of after-class study and the one night anything remotely interesting was about to happen around here he had to rear his ugly head.