Oh lookee, I have a really important deadline, so this is just falling out of my fingers... *sigh*

This might be a little dark and a touch angsty. I can never tell. I blub at anything.


Severus sat back in his chair and lifted an eyebrow. "Perhaps, all things considered, you would rather be…dead?"

Her father, Edward, who had lurched to his feet, was in the middle of a rant about how Hermione had overstepped her rights in taking away their memories. Severus' words stopped him mid flow. He stared. Blinked. Sank back onto the sofa as if his strings had been cut. And gaped.

Severus tapped a long finger to his pursed lips. "You were marked for death. I was there when the order was given." His eyes narrowed. "I was a double agent, a spy for the Light in the Death Eater ranks. Your…painful death was a certainty."

Hermione's heart turned over and her knotted hands tightened, but Severus' calm expression didn't flicker. Merlin –in that moment— she envied him his control. Or the appearance of it. Her gut was roiling, guilt and anxiety a wild mix that made her feel nauseous.

His low, cool words continued. "Without your daughter's intervention, you would not be here, living a life you have always wanted."

Her father's mouth opened and closed.

Severus' eyebrow rose again. "Is it not true that you have always wanted to be surrounded by children?"

Her mother drew in a long shaking breath and rubbed trembling hands together. "I have." She looked to her shell-shocked husband. "We both have. After Hermione, that wish…" Gwendolyn shook her head and dark eyes fixed on her daughter. "Did you plant the idea of this place, too?"

A fist tightened in Hermione's chest and it was suddenly so very hard to breathe. Had they not wanted—?

Gwendolyn stretched out her hand and wrapped her warm fingers over her cold, knotted hands. A sob broke from Hermione. She couldn't stop it.

"Oh, my girl, I'm not blaming you. This past year has been a total joy. Everything I could want. Everything." She pressed her lips together, and sniffed. "Babies day in, day out." A half-laugh escaped her. "God, you know how much I love the smell of babies! But now…" She looked around the little sitting room, something dying in her eyes. "But this, this place as lovely as it is, isn't our home. You are our home."

Severus sat forward and broke the heavy silence. "And to that effect, I have an offer to put to you." He looked to Hermione's still-speechless father. "To both of you."

Hermione blinked, an unexpected tear breaking free to run down her cheek. She'd forgotten all about his offer. And something curled and died in her heart that it wasn't something that she could give him. He wanted her parents. Not her. Damn, her stupid crush was getting completely out of hand…

Gwendolyn blinked. "What could you give us? We're muggles."

Severus pulled a folded piece of parchment from the inner pocket of his jacket, murmured an enlargement spell and a heartbeat later a large folder sat on his palm. "I took the liberty of calling it Granger Hall."

Her mother held the folder in shaking hands before setting it on her knees. She opened it and her hand shot to her mouth. "A home…"

"…for abandoned squib children, from newborns to seventeen," Severus said. "When they are recognised as an adult in the wizarding world, there are mews cottages, set back from the main house that will be a half-way house for any squib that needs a safe place to stay."

Her parents leafed through the numerous papers, their eyes growing rounder and Hermione stared at him. "Severus…?"

"When you mentioned your parents' love for children the idea formed. Kingsley couldn't refuse me."

A hand squeezed around her heart and her throat tightened. Merlin, she wanted to throw herself at him. The work that had gone into that fat folder. The time. He'd done all this for them. For squibs and her and her family. He was…magnificent. She shook her head. "He wouldn't dare."

Severus lifted his chin. "Squibs are still magical beings."

"Of course they are."

"Newborns? You know how early their magic forms?" Edward looked up from the dossier. "Hermione was eighteen months before she exploded her cousin."

Severus' brows rose. Dark eyes held her, sharp with amusement "Exploded your cousin?"

Hermione groaned and pressed her hands to her face. "I didn't explode him, Dad. It was a minor shock. A bit of singeing."

"You singed your cousin?"

She glared at a Severus whose lips fought not to grin. "Shut up."

He looked back to her silently staring parents and the humour fell away from him. "There is a spell, quite dark, that will reveal a baby's magical core. Dark because the baby will almost certainly be abandoned if proven to be a squib."

Gwendolyn pressed a hand to her throat. "Just left…?"

A pulse jumped at his temple. Something quick, hardly seen. "The lucky ones find their way into St Mungo's –our wizarding hospital. Then into muggle care, fostered, adopted if they're fortunate. The others…"

He didn't go further, but Hermione was aware of at least one dark and foul potion that required the heart of a newborn squib. And that twitch. Hermione's breath caught and she was very aware of Severus not looking at her. Dear gods… Had he, somewhere in his dark past, been ordered to render a squib baby?

Gwendolyn looked at her husband and something silent and sure passed between them. "And now they would come to us?"

Severus nodded. "Yes."

There was a relief in that single word that forced Hermione to bite her lip.

"I have it confirmed by the Ministry of Magic, any child caught under that spell will find his or her way to you."

Gwendolyn smacked the folder closed. "You can stay for breakfast –would that be a late Scottish supper?— and we can discuss this further." She grinned at Severus. "We accept by the way." She looked around the sitting room again, but her expression was thoughtful, not lost and broken. "We'll need time to sell this place on. A lot of people rely on us."

Severus nodded. "Perfectly understandable."

"Hermione, come help me." Gwendolyn put out her hand to her daughter.

"Can I just have a moment, please?" Severus had stood, stiff and correct and Hermione's heart squeezed for him.

"Just one. Apparently, bacon doesn't cook itself." Her mother smirked at him. "I know! Shocking." And she dragged her husband off into the kitchen.

"I can see were you get your force of will, Hermione," he murmured, staring after her mother. He ran a hand over his hair, sank back into his seat and cast a discreet muffliato. For a moment he was silent, simply staring at has hands. "I want to explain."

Hermione pressed her lips together and nodded.

"I did not…I…" His fingers tunnelled though his hair. "Tom Riddle ordered a potion made. I will not say which one. But the ingredients were…provided. The child…was already…"

Hermione caught his hand and squeezed. Tears burned for him. "Severus…"

"A Death Eater's daughter. A squib." He let out a long breath. "Thank the gods that the potion did not require me to…desecrate her. Only to recognise her robbed life with my stirring hand to her chest." He closed his eyes. "I vowed in that moment that there would be no more like her. No more."

"You have upheld your vow, Severus. You have." Hermione wiped away the wetness to her cheeks. How many horrors had this wizard endured to bring about Voldemort's downfall? "My mother —as you've noticed— is a force of nature. She will be a bear with her cubs. Molly Weasley has nothing on my mother."

He snorted. "Terrifying indeed." He squeezed her hand and released her. "Thank you. I did not want you to think… I wanted you know my reasoning."

"You are a good man, Severus Snape."

"Perhaps." A bleak smile touched his mouth and he stared back at his hands. His right hand —his stirring hand— flexed. "The Whomping Willow agreed for her to be buried beside him. I could think of no fiercer guardian."

"Severus, stand up." Hermione was on her feet. "Stand up, because I need to hug you. Right now."

He blinked up at her. "Hermione, what…?"

"Not standing, all right, I'm short, you're tall." She stepped between his knees and wrapped her arms around him, pressing his face to her jumper. He tried to pull away, but she was quite firm. "Arms around me, Severus, I'm not letting you go."

He stilled and then his arms inched around her waist. Hermione pressed her cheek to the silky softness of his hair and breathed, simply breathed.

His muscles loosened under her touch and she pressed closer, shutting her eyes, drawing in his warm scent, something musky, like parchment, like old books, but with a fresher, greener accent…

Her heart was drumming, he could no doubt hear it, feel it pounding but this was right. To offer comfort in that moment. And to remember a nameless child.


"He's hugging her."

Edward's mouth thinned and his whole body tightened like an angry little bull terrier. Gwendolyn swatted him with a tea towel. "She's hugging him." She snorted. "You saw her leap up and manhandle him into that hold. The poor man didn't know where to look."

"Well I can see exactly where he's looking now."

Gwendolyn rolled her eyes. "He has his eyes shut. I think it's sweet."

"He's her teacher. Her headmaster. He's older than us!"

"Nonsense. He's in late thirties. You, my dear, are twenty years older than him. And how much older are you than me? Hmm?" Her husband glared at her. "Come away from the door. I'd prefer Hermione with him than that boy she was panting after. What was his name?"

"Ronald."

Gwendolyn pulled a face. "Ronald. That boy ate his own bodyweight in cake. And talked about quidditch non-stop. As if we knew or cared." She opened the fridge and peered inside. Enough bacon for four. Good. "You know, I think he has a tapeworm." She frowned and set out mushrooms and tomatoes on the counter. "If wizards can have that. Who knows what magical maladies they suffer?"

"They're still hugging…"

"Come away." She pushed him in front of the mushrooms. "Chop."

He grumbled under his breath, but still reached for the vegetable knife. He'd always chopped, diced and sliced with the surety of a surgeon. Which, she supposed, he was. They both were. It was strange, a career that had taken up so much of her life held little attraction now. Not after the last year…and the promise of more, of children they could care for around the clock. Theirs in all but name.

And the man –the wizard— her daughter was happily hugging had given them this gift.

"I like Severus' character. Clever. Assured. Compassionate. And honestly, Eddie, tell me, did you ever see Hermione with someone her own age?"

He sighed. "No… But him…?"

"They'll make lovely babies."

Edward gaped at her. "Babies!"

Gwendolyn leaned back to peer through the gap in the door. "They've finished. Go. Chat with him. I'll occupy Hermione." She stared at the chopping board. "What have you done to this tomato? Call yourself a surgeon. Ha!"

"Babies…" The word was a disbelieving mutter under his breath as he left with the Granger Hall folder.

Granger Hall. Total, blissful madness…

"Why is dad talking to himself?"

Hermione stepped into the kitchen and offered a small smile. In the brighter light, she looked thinner but hugging her professor had put a nice pink into her cheeks.

Gwendolyn grinned and wrapped her arms around her daughter, hugging her hard until she squeaked. "My brilliant girl." She pulled back and looked over her. What had she been using on her head? "Dear lord, I was right about your hair."

Hermione snorted. "I've been busy. But…" Her eyes dropped and Gwendolyn's heart tightened at her sudden uncertainty. "If I can, I'd like to help here? Stay with you until I have to head back to start my NEWTs?"

"Of course you can stay."

Hermione bit her lip and her eyes shone with tears, so Gwendolyn enveloped her in another breath-stealing hug. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. But, you can tell me more about your Severus."

The pink in her cheeks deepened. "He's not my Severus."

"And why not. He's older. Experienced." She leant in close. "Great arse."

"Mum!"

Gwendolyn blinked. "I am, aren't I? Still…" She waggled her eyebrows and they both burst into laughter.

Hermione leant against the counter and looked through to the sitting room. Severus stood with Edward, the folder open on the dining table. Edward was wagging his tongue about something…

Did her daughter even realise how she was looking at that man? She was already more than half in love with this Severus Snape.

Hermione gave her a smile and Gwendolyn blinked. "I already have a boyfriend, Mum. You remember, Ronald? Red hair. Funny. A big, rambunctious family. I've always wanted him."

Hermione glanced back into the room, and Gwendolyn followed her gaze. Severus had stilled, his head tilted. Her voice was low, wistful. "We're…we're serious. I think he's the one."

Severus straightened, quick and sharp, a sudden hard tension gripping him, and Gwendolyn closed her eyes. A fist tightened around her heart. The poor man. Somehow, he'd heard her.

And her brilliant, darling —but so very silly daughter— was heading for complete disaster.


Let me know what you think! :)