Sudden loud banging on the front door broke them apart. Hermione went to open it, preparing to turn away whoever it was, and Severus followed closely behind.
"Ron?" Hermione mumbled, confused. "What are you doing here?"
Severus stopped to her left and crossed his arms on his chest, displaying his usual intimidating Professor Snape persona. The Weasley-boy's eyebrows shot up the moment he saw Severus.
"Me? What's he still doing here? And why are you all dressed up?"
"What is my husband doing at home? Is that what you're asking?" queried Hermione, raising her eyebrows to match Severus'.
Both men stood dumbfounded. Ron because he was just told the shocking news, and Severus because of the ease with which they were told. Though come to think of it, it wasn't really that unexpected. "Start getting used to it, man. Doubting your wife on every turn simply will not do…"
Hermione and her so-called friend stared at each other in a mute battle of wills, and the ginger menace was definitely losing. His face was becoming redder and redder with each second, and by the look of things, Severus was sure the explosion was imminent. To his surprise, though, Weasley blinked and instantly became calm. He placed his filthy hand on Hermione's arm (Severus barely contained a growl seeing this), smiled at her sweetly, and then bore his gaze — now full of hatred — into Severus, apparently coming to the obvious conclusion. Ridiculous really, how easy it was to read that simpleton. Snape practically saw the light bulb turning on in his head.
"What did you do to her, you filthy Death Eater?" exclaimed the moron, pointing at Hermione. Severus opened his mouth to list everything he'll do to him if he didn't remove his hands from his wife and his person from their doorstep, but Hermione was faster.
The twangy sound of a slap reverberated through the room loud and clear. She stepped nose to nose to Weasley, and stabbing him in the chest with her finger, hissed, sounding louder and louder with each word: "How dare you, you dirty fucking asshole! You are not worthy of this man's pinky on your best days! Get out of my sight! I'm so fucking tired of you, your disgusting behavior, and your outright refusal to see beyond your own freckles!"
"What!?" screeched the boy, looking appalled. "Hermione!"
"Get. Out," she cut, crossing her arms on her chest. With an undignified huff and a lot of profanities, Weasley finally popped away.
Severus was in awe. He stood, staring at his wife for god only knew how long, admiring her small belligerent frame, her wild curls, her chiseled profile in the afternoon sun. The way she attacked Weasley, shredding the idiot into tiny pieces… It made Snape's chest ache with warmth, and love, and gratitude, and pride, and a million other emotions. Again. Yes, he would turn himself inside out if need be, but he'll become worthy of her. He swore to it.
Hermione turned her face and bore her tearful eyes into him, which made Severus immediately wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, love," he whispered into her hair, placing a light kiss on the crown of her head. Hermione leaned back a little and looked at him.
"Whatever for? It's not your fault that he's such an egotistical moron, Severus."
He did not quite agree but nodded anyway. "I'm sorry nonetheless. You don't deserve to be treated that way."
"Well," she sighed and let go of him, walking to the table to pick up the envelope. "It's Ronald Weasley for you. Can we not talk about him right now?"
"Yes, of course. Are you ready?" Severus reached his hand to her. Hermione smiled, took it, and they left the house, disappariting to the ministry together.
The journey through the crowded Atrium wasn't an easy one. Everyone kept staring at them walking together hand in hand, but Hermione just squeezed his fingers tightly and refused to let go. Severus didn't know whether he was relieved or terrified by that. Probably both. Either way, he kept his face neutral all the way to the needed department, through the awkward exchange of formal pleasantries with the witch who worked there (a Hufflepuff graduated in 88, abysmal in potions), and then through their way to the international portkey station.
All in all — it was hell. Severus was sure they were caught by quite a few cameras, so tomorrow's 'Prophet' will have a field day with the shocking news. That thought made him nervous to the point of almost being sick. The backslash was bound to be tremendous. It definitely was a good thing that Severus waited until the end of the school year because now people would have two months to come to terms with this information. Two months which Hermione and himself could spend safely ensconced inside her — their — beautiful house, or in some other country if it came down to that.
The portkey station was an enormous chamber with rows and rows of identical seats in its middle and countless small shops along every wall selling everything from food to slippers. They went in and were immediately greeted by a short portly witch behind the reception desk who flashed them an entirely too happy and too fake smile.
"Good afternoon Professor Snape, Miss Granger. My name is Esme Davidson," she said confidently, standing a little straighter and fighting to keep her composure when Severus raised his typical eyebrow. "Where to?"
"It's Mrs. Snape if you please," commented Hermione with a smile of her own. The clerk's face froze in shock.
Severus pointedly cleared his throat, starting to get impatient with the babbling fool.
"My apologies," the woman stammered at last. "That was just… Uu…khm. Where to, Professor Snape, Mrs. Snape?"
Hermione flashed another smile. "Paris."
"Of course. Let me just check the schedule." Davidson fiddled with some papers on her desk for a moment, then lifted her gaze back up. Severus couldn't help but notice how frequently her eyes darted toward him. "It seems that the nearest portkey to Paris will be in forty-five minutes. Would you like to register?"
"Yes, please," drawled Severus in his usual 'obviously' tone, making Davidson gulp heavily.
"Well then, aah… If you could please give me your wands for the…aah… For the registration. It will only take a second."
If Severus wasn't so fucking nervous himself, he would've been fairly amused. As it was, he simply handed the woman his wand, wishing to be done with this torture already. A few moments later, Hermione did the same, and afterward, they proceeded to find the seats in some quiet corner. With a silent Muffliato around them, they quickly got lost in a conversation, ignoring the far too much curious world.
Paris was wonderful. For the first time in years, Severus was able to freely walk the streets. No one there knew (or cared) who the hell Severus Snape or Hermione Granger were. They walked for several hours, talking non-stop. About everything: their respective childhoods, favorite books and movies, music, art, potions, arithmancy, the war, politics, newspapers (both of them weren't against closing a certain rag), gardening, the latest article in 'Transfigurations today'… Everything. It was amazing. Severus never felt more content in his life, and judging by Hermione's expressions and general behavior, neither did she. And they never stopped holding hands. It was like a dream come true, only much much better because this time it was real.
They had dinner in a small cozy restaurant near the Seine, for a change enjoying the view in comfortable silence. Despite the hour, there weren't many people around, which only served to further improve Severus' mood. It was a good day, in the end. All worries that plagued him for months were wiped away with his wife's warm smile. He couldn't even imagine what would've happened if she refused him… Nothing good.
Not wishing to give in to the depressing thoughts, Severus forcefully muted his mind and instead looked at his beautiful wife. She sat on the chair to his right, basking in the last beams of the setting sun, gazing somewhere ahead, but turned to him the moment she felt his eyes on her. The picture was so breathtaking, Severus couldn't contain himself.
"I love you," he breathed. It was a lot easier to do for the second time. Hermione held his gaze for a long moment and smiled.
"I love you too."
She continued to talk but Severus couldn't hear a word behind his wildly beating heart and blood rushing in his ears. She loved him. She loved him?
She loved him.
Hermione reached out, stroking his cheek gently, and Severus suddenly realized that he was crying. Not caring about that and not able to form a coherent thought, let alone articulate a word, he pulled his wife closer and kissed her with all the passion he was capable of. The world around them be damned, he needed it. Needed to show Hermione what he felt at that moment, needed her to understand what he couldn't say. The kiss quickly became more and more heated, completing the transformation of his brain into a soft mush.
"Let's go home," whispered Hermione into his lips, all too soon releasing her grip on his hair. "Take me home, love."
Severus bolted from his chair, downed the last of the wine from his glass in one gulp, left some money on the table not wishing to wait for a check, then he took Hermione's hand and with the confidence he did not really feel, led her out of the restaurant.
Three apparitions later, Severus' brain kicked in somewhat. They stood on the porch of their home, hugging for dear life. He must've looked ridiculous because Hermione laughed softly while trying to untangle herself from his tight grip, but Severus didn't care about anything beyond the fact that she looked happy at that moment. He made this amazing woman — who loved him, for Merlin's sake! — laugh, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
Hermione took his hand and led him through the door, then up the stairs, and straight to the bedroom without bothering to turn on the lights anywhere. It was not necessary, the last red beams of almost completely vanished sun that shone through windows gave enough light. She stopped in the middle of the room, her back to him. Severus froze in the doorframe, suddenly feeling self-conscious, his earlier anxiety returned full-force, rooting him to the spot. This was it. His moment X. What in the name of all things holy was he supposed to do now? He felt completely inept, like a bloody teenager… The previous passion extinguished as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on his head.
Hermione looked at him over her shoulder, blushing slightly. She was obviously nervous too, which made the whole situation a little bit easier. Just a little.
"Would you mind helping me with the zip?" she asked quietly, still looking at Severus. There wasn't anything else to do but comply, so he strode forward and with visibly shaking hands reached for the zipper, with agonizing slowness pulled it down, and then softly traced his fingers down Hermione's smooth skin, making her shiver. Encouraged by that reaction, Severus placed both his palms on her bare shoulder blades, allowing himself a moment to just enjoy the sensation, gingerly stroked them up to her shoulders and then down her arms. The dress fell on the floor with a soft thud. For several moments they stood completely still, not even breathing. All Severus could do was watch Hermione's lean, almost entirely naked form, unable to comprehend the situation, not even trying to. His hands went up her arms to her shoulders, then to her slim neck, and his lips followed without any conscious thought on his part. He sucked in her earlobe and she gasped, shutting her eyes, tilting her head to one side to grant Severus better access, which he used eagerly to lavish her with wet open-mouthed kisses. He was thrilled by how easy it all seemed to be for them, how responsive Hermione was, how she welcomed his every attention.
It was his last more or less coherent thought because the next moment she spun around, her mouth vigorously attacked his at the same time when her hands attacked his buttons, making an astonishingly quick job with them, and the shirt joined the dress on the floor. There was one fleeting second when Severus tried to worry about his sickly-thin battle-scarred body, but it passed momentarily when he felt Hermione's hot mouth on his throat and her small fingers all over his upper body, steadily making their way down. Hermione undid the belt and opened his trousers with one hand, at the same time sneaking the other inside his briefs to squeeze his bum. The wave of shock that went straight to his groin, prompted a moan from him to which Hermione responded with one of her own.
Slightly startled by his reaction to so simple a thing, Severus broke the kiss and looked at his wife, breathing heavily. She stood still, hands on his waist, eyes roaming his face and chest. What would she think of him? Trying to distract himself and quelch the rising panic, Severus reached for Hermione's head and pulled the pin out of her hair, letting it fall free on her shoulders.
"You're gorgeous," he whispered with dry lips and absent-mindedly licked them. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Hermione, and her eyes went ablaze. One heartbeat, two, three, and then everything but the two of them and the passion that burned in their veins ceased to be. Severus launched at his wife, pushing her on the bed, and she squealed in surprise, holding onto him harder, which in turn made them both fall on the mattress in a tangle of limbs. Feeling lightheaded and painfully hard at the same time, Severus started kissing and sucking everywhere he could reach: on Hermione's lips, face, neck, collarbones, breasts — sweet Merlin, why didn't he do it before — listening to her moans getting louder. Or maybe it was his? Reaching one hand, he lightly brushed his fingers over her covered lower lips and was rewarded with an iron grip on his hair and thus far the loudest of moans.
Her black lace panties were already soaked through, and it was oh so tempting to just rid them both from the remaining clothes so they could get on with it but the only piece of Severus' brain that still was functioning — somewhat — kept insisting that he should get the lady off first because there was no guarantee whatsoever that he would last for longer than a few seconds, so he started to trail kisses down Hermione's abdomen, intending to do his best, even if it was for all intents and purposes his very first attempt at pleasuring someone with his mouth.
But being a very tactile person who was denied touch first by others, then by himself, Severus couldn't resist the urge to explore her with his fingers. A wave of his hand vanished the panties, finally leaving Hermione nude. He could not see her properly with one of her hands still gripping his hair almost painfully and the other mindlessly caressing his neck and shoulders but decided that for now, he could forgo the pleasure of seeing his beautiful wife in favor of feeling her skin on his. It was overwhelming. Tentatively, he placed his palm on Hermione's sex, relishing in the feeling of a wave of shivers that ran through her in response. She spread her legs wider and tugged Severus' head up to give him a searing kiss at the same time when he stroked his middle finger between her slick labia, making her moan in his mouth and thrust her hips upward.
It was a heady sensation. Not quite believing his luck but not wishing to stop his actions, Severus, feeling a lot more daring, inserted two fingers inside her entrance, seeking her clitoris with his thumb and circling it gently the way he saw one of his partners do to herself in the past. Hermione's head fell back on the mattress and she gasped. Severus used that opportunity to return to his previous activity, so he went back to trailing kisses down her stomach, not forgetting to pay attention to both her nipples one more time. All too soon, the destination was reached and he found himself staring at his wife's pubic curls with a wildly beating heart, feeling his resolve slipping. Severus Snape had no experience in delights of oral sex, neither as a giver nor as a receiver. He always wanted to try, though.
"Severus," whispered Hermione, noticing his pause, "you don't have to…"
But the effect of her words was lessened considerably by a loud throaty groan that escaped Hermione's mouth the next second when Severus thrust his fingers inside her again, curling them slightly and apparently hitting the famous G-spot. If he could do that, he could do all the other things too, right? If only he knew how. With this newfound determination, he stilled his ministrations and looked up, waiting for Hermione to focus on him.
"Tell me what to do," he pleaded quietly, feeling his cheeks and neck burning with mortification. Hermione frowned slightly and sat up.
"Sorry, but is it your first…" she trailed off, taking his hand in both hers. Severus' eyes widened when the meaning of her words sank in, and he reflexively tried to rip his hand away in shame but Hermione wouldn't let him.
"No! No, no… no, not in general," he stammered, looking at their joined hands rather than in his wife's eyes. "I just… I never have… Nobody would…"
Hermione placed a finger on his lips, effectively silencing what would've been a long self-deprecating speech. Lifting his chin and making eye contact, she said, "None of that, Severus. You're amazing, you hear me? We've barely even started, I grant you, but no man — or woman for that matter — has ever set me on fire the way you did by a few simple gestures and glances. Did you not notice?" Oh, he did… But the lack of certain skills wouldn't be so easily covered. "It does not matter what was before, love. It was in the past. It does not matter if you know how to be with someone else because that someone else isn't me. We both have to learn anew how to be with each other, and it's a long process I'm going to enjoy. You have a whole universe inside you, husband, and I'm eager to explore it if you'd let me."
Severus sat simply staring at her in a futile attempt to understand what was just said and reconcile the imaginary 'husband' Hermione described with his knowledge of himself. The results were not very promising. He couldn't comprehend how it was possible that they came to such polar conclusions drawing on the exact same facts.
"Kiss me," demanded Hermione quietly, closing the distance between their faces but not touching. "Kiss me."
Not able to fight the onslaught of sensations from her proximity and a little tired from the emotional roller-coaster of the day, he simply did as was bid. Closing his eyes, Severus cupped Hermione's cheeks and gently kissed her lips. It was far easier to just drift along sometimes than to fight against the wind. And with someone as trusted as his wife, it was not a hard choice. Maybe it was foolish of him to do, knowing how history loved to repeat itself, but Severus could resist the overwhelming impulse, telling him to trust this woman, no more than he could do it as a boy, falling in love-slash-obsession with his redhead friend.
This kiss was a very long and very slow attempt to rescue the almost completely extinct spark, blowing it back up to the state of an enormous all-consuming fire that burned inside them both mere minutes ago. Hermione's hands caressed Severus' chest and back, tenderly trailing along every scar, setting his skin ablaze. He was slowly losing his mind from the sheer intensity of the sensations coupled with the finally dawning realization that Hermione truly wanted him.
What he did at those moments or minutes or hours he would never know. It was all just a giant blur of pleasure, heat, and sweat. Severus remembered Hermione's screams as she came around his fingers, remembered her swearing, and her eyes full of fire. Remembered how almost unbearably hot she was inside, how tremendously he exploded, and how blissfully he felt afterward. He remembered how his chest seemed too tight to contain all the warmth, and love, and gratitude that he felt while watching Hermione's small sleeping form in his arms that night. But that was about all.
Severus Snape stood on the street in front of a nice white house with the most ridiculous smile on his face and arms spread wide. A small raven-haired boy bounced toward him, squealing 'daddy' on his way in delight, leaving his mommy standing on the porch smiling at the view. Today was their tenth anniversary and fourth birthday of their son, and Severus could not be happier.
The ridiculous marriage law was repelled a month after the Snapes' wedding, not that they cared. They were too busy inside their small bubble of bliss and contentment to notice such trivial things. Apparently, the minister of magic failed to comply with the terms of the law due to his extremely tight schedule, and after a month that he spent in Azkaban, the Wizengamot declared the law 'a misguided attempt to rush the society back to its health' and then gave their 'most sincere apologies to those whose lives were shattered' in the process. Oh, well… After everything, who would believe the ministry capable of rational thought? Not many.
The couples who were forced to marry under the law were offered annulments of sorts, but since the wedding ceremony was built on blood and was borderline dark in itself, a lot of people decided not to risk their magic and life. Not that the Snapes even considered the proposal, and when in the next several years the world around them was spinning out of control toward complete anarchy, they held onto each other to stay afloat.
And then their son. Alexander came into this world as an unexpected but very much appreciated and cherished gift. After seven and a half months in a constant state of terror and uncertainty, after hours and hours of sheer panic during birth, the moment Severus held the new tiny bundle of life in his hands for the first time, he broke down and wept. That it happened on their anniversary was all the more reason to be happy. One more sign from the universe that all those years ago when he stood in the shadow of his now favorite tree fighting for the courage to follow his heart, he made the right choice.
Severus caught his son, spun him around one time, and then they both made their way to Hermione. A decade and she did not change one bit. Still the same small lean figure, soft curls, breathtaking radiant smile, warm gaze full of love and tenderness. The same fire-inducing kisses, the same mind-blowing passion, same gentle caresses. Ten years, and not one day of them was spent without the all-consuming gratitude toward his wife — the most kind, caring, and accepting woman that ever walked the earth.
"Daddy, what's in your pocket?" demanded Alex, noticing a small bulge in Severus' jacket pocket.
"Nothing that concerns small insolent boys," replied Severus, faking a scowl. Hermione suddenly got a coughing fit.
"I'm sorry, daddy," apologized Alex quietly, looking for all the world most sincere. Also fake, Severus knew. After all, the boy has taken after his father in that regard.
Huffing a great sigh, Snape senior took a small box out of his pocket and held it out to his son.
"Here. Take it inside but do not open it until mommy and I join you. Clear?"
Alex's face lit up with joy. He grabbed the box and ran into the house without a backward glance. Hermione immediately closed the distance between Severus and herself, kissing him softly on the lips.
"So, tell me —"
"I love you," interrupted Severus, knowing full well that it wasn't what she wanted to ask, but unable and unwilling to contain himself. Hermione smiled his favorite warm smile.
"I love you too."