"Hello, Crookshanks. Were you a good boy?" Hermione leaned down, took the cat into her arms and snuggled him. "Took care of the house all week long all by yourself."
Crookshanks meowed loudly in declaration of his supreme awesomeness.
"Yes, you were a good boy." Scratching affectionately between his ears, she presented him to Severus. "Isn't he a good boy?"
"Why I put up with this..." Severus mumbled as he rolled his eyes and mechanically pet the cat.
Crookshanks just purred and leaned into the contact.
"Crookshanks loves his daddy," Hermione cooed, and nuzzled the pleased feline. She did not see Severus suddenly freeze up at the way she referred to him.
The second time in a week she had made that implication, and it worried him. Sure, the first time had been a joke, and this time it was about a cat, but that was no doubt merely the first step. Next thing would be a selection of clothing in ever-decreasing sizes, then a growing collection of foolish stuffed animals, and then a room painted blue and decorated with little cauldrons--which she would do to try and sway him. Today the cat, tomorrow a house full of... children.
The purring was becoming violent at the combined attention, and Crookshanks was just about to tumble from Hermione's arms.
"I think he misses his playmate."
"That's unpleasant to know." Severus leveled a sneer at the cat, but he just kept purring, and Hermione laughed.
"So," she said and lowered Crookshanks to the floor, "what did you and my father talk about?"
The sneer slipped away, and he watched Hermione pick up the flowers that Crookshanks had knocked over while they had been away. "Nothing of consequence."
Hermione rearranged the selection of dried flowers in the vase, then looked expectantly at Severus. "Really?"
"You."
"So I'm nothing of consequence now, am I?"
"Yes, Hermione. I only keep you around for the sex and how you look in lingerie. And your cat, of course."
Crookshanks rubbed against his leg to prove the statement.
"Well, I suppose it's all right then. I was just hoping you weren't too involved in this relationship, but if it's just sex--and the cat--then we're fine." She turned to walk away, but cast one withering glance at him first. "Completely fine."
Obviously this wasn't going to work. Damned forthrightness. "Hermione, you know I didn't mean it." How he hated this apologizing and pleading; it was so demeaning, and she knew perfectly well he didn't mean it.
She had grabbed her suitcase and was heading up the stairs, so he followed, and in turn, Crookshanks followed him.
"I may know you don't mean it," she said, and adopted her 'I may be a know-it-all but I still have feelings' voice that he recognized from back when she had been a student, "but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I do get tired of your sarcasm when it's so unrelenting. Especially after the week I've had." She stopped suddenly and turned on the top riser to face him. "And you were the one who urged me to go!"
"Well, yes, but I just thought--"
"No, you didn't think. I said something and you just automatically attacked me." With the marginal anger on her face shifting to hurt, Hermione turned so violently, she knocked her suitcase against the wall. "So I'll just go do something of no consequence now. Don't mind me."
"Hermione..." She could be beyond infuriating when she wanted to. Almost as instinct, he reached down and lifted Crookshanks into his arms. The cat would be continuously underfoot if he didn't. "Hermione," he repeated, following her to the bedroom door, which shut in his face. "He just wanted to make sure I was taking care of you," Severus said through the door.
"And you're failing miserably, I'd say."
The sound of drawers opening and closing. At least she wasn't crying.
"I would really like to speak about this face to face, and not through a door." His jaw clenched, a bad habit he had never been able to rid himself of.
Crookshanks had stopped purring now, and was looking at him with giant yellow eyes. It resembled worry as much as the beast who didn't have a care in the world could manage.
"Why? What difference does it make?"
The door was unlocked, and they both knew it, but leaving it closed until it had been verbally unlocked had been the way of doing things for a good time now. To change it, to open the door now would be to break a thread of trust and understanding. His self-control won out over his frustration. "It makes a difference to me," Severus said slowly, deliberately to control the pitch of his voice, which had been creeping higher as the exchange continued. "I don't want to say this to you through a door."
"Yes, yes. I've heard 'I love you' more than enough--"
"That's not it, and don't you dare trivialize that!" Control had fled him completely, and he dropped Crookshanks. This would be a mistake he would worry about later because at the moment, he just didn't care: he opened the door and entered the room.
She looked up, startled at his breach of custom.
"I don't use those words as some sort of patch when the surface gets bumpy, Hermione, and you know that," he choked out, forcing himself not to yell. The only times he yelled were in moments of extreme--EXTREME--stress, and this shouldn't have been one of those times.
In the doorway, looking horribly pensive, Crookshanks meowed pitifully.
A hundred things all warred to be spoken at that moment, but not one was a clear winner, so Severus just stood there, staring at Hermione with what could only be described as bug-eyed anger on his face.
Hermione stared back in... horror? "You... you're scaring me, Severus," she said quietly.
His entire body just seemed to deflate at her words, and he ended up watching the floor with misery. He didn't move as Hermione slipped past him, out the door, and her footsteps sounded on the stairs.
The front door opening and closing...
It was dark when Hermione finally returned home. She just hoped the Severus was... feeling better. All the lights of the house were off, and while that didn't concern her, it did not make her feel better either. Not even the light from the little side room, packed so tightly with books, pulling out the wrong one would bring them all down, was on. That was where he usually went when he was unhappy about something.
From the attic window, she saw Lorenz, their owl, fly away silently into the dark sky. What truly concerned her in this tableau of familiarity was the one thing that was not: Crookshanks was not in the window, or already on the walk to greet her.
Trepidation had already been rolling about the pit of her stomach, but now it was sitting there like a huge, leaden lump. Could something have happened? Could the Death Eaters have...? Disallowing the fear to make her feel any worse than she already was, Hermione hurried up the walk and into the house.
All was dark and quiet, and seemed undisturbed. She poked her head into and gave cursory glances to each room on the first floor, and when she found nothing, she headed to the second floor. Her first look there brought her some relief, but it was mingled with hurt.
On the bed, right in the middle as he was often wont to do, was Crookshanks. He had manipulated the comforter to create a depression in it, which he slept in the middle of.
Other than that, the room was empty. Not here, not downstairs, Hermione was fairly sure she wouldn't find him in the house, and her heart dropped. Outside, she had no idea where to look for him. He had no regular place to go to if he wanted to be out, and Crookshanks was far too relaxed for something bad to have happened.
No Death Eater visits, no returning to Voldemort, just... gone.
Hermione's brow furrowed. Crookshanks. The cat was relaxed, yes, very relaxed. There were few times he wasn't, but Hermione couldn't imagine that this would be one of them if Severus were gone. The great orange feline could get more hysterical than Ron ever had if something were awry.
Puzzled and still a little worried, she approached the bed. Crookshanks looked back at her with one half-opened eye, then returned to his nap, completely unconcerned. Yes, that cinched it then. Trying not to disturb the mattress, Hermione stretched out on the bed and peered over Crookshanks' side.
Curled in the long fur of the cat's belly was her pet snake. True relief flooded her, and the silly anger she had felt earlier was forgotten. She prodded the cat's rump a few times until he deigned to look at her. "Go on," she whispered, and shoved his rear end. "Stop being a convenient hiding place for him."
Yawning and stretching first, taking as long as he possibly could, Crookshanks stood and exposed the snake. He stretched each hind leg, yawned again, then stretched his front legs.
"Go on already," Hermione whispered, and tried to push him along.
Crookshanks took one last opportunity and stretched his four legs at once, his bushy tail shivering with the effort, then sauntered to the edge of the bed and hopped down.
"Finally. You don't need to make everything such a big production." Hermione kicked off her shoes then gently scooped the snake up in her hands. It didn't move once. "Still upset?" she whispered, as she worked under the covers, then placed the coiled serpent on her stomach. If she had been thinking properly, she would have removed her robes first, but this was not a time to be acting like that. There were important things that needed to be discussed.
Hermione laid awake, waiting to feel movement from him, but there was never so much as even a twitch of the tail. And it couldn't have been too long before she drifted off to sleep like that.
In the morning, Hermione was alone in bed. It looked like she had never shared the bed with another person the previous night. He was going to be difficult then. She knew how to deal with difficult.
"Severus," she said loudly as she got out of bed and started to change her clothes, "don't be this way. You can't hide forever. If you want to talk, I'm willing to listen now."
No answer.
"Fine. You're going to make me do something drastic. Crookshanks! Crookshanks, come here!" she called, and almost immediately, she was answered by the cat, standing in the doorway, his tail held proudly in the air. Hermione pet his head and scratched his neck. "Yes, Crookshanks is smarter than Severus, isn't he?"
He answered with a loud meow, and licked her fingers.
"Yes, you are. Now go find him, Crookshanks. Go find Severus."
With a final lick, he turned and scampered out of the bedroom.
Now that that was being taken cared of, Hermione finished changing, and started on her hair. Loose or pulled back today? Maybe up. It was supposed to be nice weather, and she was wearing her navy blue robes. Yes, up would work well. Otherwise she looked like she was on her way to a meeting or a funeral.
There was a bump and a crash from downstairs.
"Be careful, Crookshanks. Don't break anything!" she warned, and proceeded to gather her hair up. She pinned and combed until everything looked appropriately tousled in a purposeful way, still hearing some bumps and the thud of pawsteps from the first floor.
Humming to herself, Hermione went into the bathroom and brushed and flossed her teeth, an unnecessary ritual, but ingrained in her from the time she had teeth to brush. She was just rinsing her mouth when Crookshanks sauntered into the bathroom with the tail end of a displeased snake in his mouth.
"You found him! Good Crookshanks." Hermione took hold of the snake, grasping the head firmly, and stroked the cat. "You go and get yourself a treat now."
Crookshanks meowed and rubbed against her knee,purring loudly.
"Don't play innocent. I've seen you open that cupboard door; you can get your own." She tugged his tail, and looking entirely guilty of the accusation, Crookshanks ran off.
"Now, we can do this the easy way or the difficult way. Knowing you, it'll be the difficult way, so I won't bother to ask." Hermione opened the shower door, dropped the squirming snake in the tub, then closed the door. It was one of the very few places he couldn't escape from; it was time to have this conversation.
She waited, but nothing. "It must be cold in there," she said idly. fussing with her hair. Though he knew perfectly well he was trapped, he would be testing his prison anyway, she was sure. "I can wait longer than you can; the bathtub must be cold on your little scales."
It was only a moment longer before a dark shape appeared behind the shower door. "Fine."
Hermione sighed. As usual, she would be the one to make the concessions here. That's the way it had been, and she wasn't sure it would ever change; Severus was just that way. She opened the shower door and did her best to ignore the look on his face. She just put her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. "You are cold. Where were you hiding?"
"What difference does it make?" Petulant. He was hurt more than angry.
"It doesn't." Hermione lifted her head, ignoring the fact that he had not returned her embrace, and slid one hand to the back of his neck.
"Were you... going somewhere?" He was eyeing her hair.
His act didn't fool her at all; he was very carefully acting as though he wasn't at all affected by her behavior. "Not really. I just thought it looked better like this with the robe." Maybe the conversation would wait until later. "But if you don't like--"
"It's fine. It looks fine off your neck."
"I meant the robe." Hermione undid a clasp.
"Oh."
She gave him a small smile and undid the second clasp.
Severus cleared his throat. "Yes, well, if you don't like it... That is, you shouldn't... I mean..."
Pulling on the back of his neck, she leaned up and kissed him. He hesitated, as she thought he might, but only for a moment, then he was liquid in her arms. One arm slipped around her waist, pulling her to him, and the other trapped her arm. His body, though solid, molded itself to her, trying to take her in to itself.
Hermione whimpered as he sucked her tongue into his mouth, and her knees wobbled.
"May Harry Potter strike me dead if I ever call you nothing of consequence again," he said huskily after he had released her mouth, though not her body.
"Harry wouldn't do such a thing." She giggled, though she wasn't entirely sure why. "He would only do what I asked him, and I would never ask him to hurt you. Unless..."
"Hermione."
"I can fantasize, can't I?"
"About Potter and..." Severus shook his head. "Absolutely not."
Plucking absently at the clasps of his robes, Hermione asked, "What about Ron and--"
"No!"
"Oh, but with his red hair," she continued, now gently opening his robes so he wouldn't notice, "and with your--"
"Is this what it will take to silence you?" He captured her mouth, letting his hands sweep over her body to finish removing her robes. He pushed them from her shoulders, down her arms where they hung, open to his view. Hands did not stop there.
"You're cold, Severus," Hermione said with her robes pooled around her feet, twisting away from his chilly touch. "What were you doing?"
"You shut me up in this bathtub, and then made fun of me. Remember that?" She kept twisting away from his hands, and though it was irritating, the way her soft, smooth flesh slid under his touch was alluring. "Now hold still."
"No, your hands are freezing!" Hermione turned to the side and pushed his hands away.
"If you held still, I could warm them."
Hermione gave a good-natured shriek as his hands slid up her sides, tickling her, and then down across her back and stomach. Her foot caught in her robe, and she stumbled, throwing her arm out to catch herself.
"That was lovely, Hermione."
Hermione smiled warmly as the water sprayed down on the two of them. "Whoops. Maybe we should take advantage of the moment though, yes?" With one hand she adjusted the temperature of the water, and the other ran through his now-wet hair.
"You planned this, I'm sure," he answered, and allowed his robes to fall.
"You should be proud of my Slytherin cunning, the same way I'm proud of your Gryffindor bravery."
Severus cupped her face in his hand. "Hermione."
She gazed up at him. "Yes?"
"That was Hufflepuff dumb luck." He leaned down and kissed her, silencing her protests.
Crookshanks was waiting for them when they removed themselves from the shower. He eyed them speculatively and meowed.
"Oh we're fine, Crookshanks," Hermione said as wrapped a towel around herself. "And it's not polite to stare."
The cat meowed again, this time with a pitiful tremor to his voice.
Hermione tsked. "Don't be a baby, Crookshanks. We're right here; you didn't miss anything. Well..." She looked at Severus and grinned. "Nothing appropriate for your feline eyes anyway."
"Why do you insist on speaking to that cat in such a way? You only encourage its irritating behavior."
"You love him and you know it. And he adores you. I'm not sure why. I think he takes it as a personal challenge."
Crookshanks made a sound somewhere between a purr and a meow as Hermione's hand ran down his back. His gaze, now content, fixed on Severus.
Severus scowled at the cat. "You bit me earlier and now you expect me to pet you? You chased me and dragged me up the stairs, and you think you're going to win me over like that? How would you like it if I chewed on your tail?"
As Crookshanks just purred, Hermione had to fight very hard not to laugh. "Severus, really, Crookshanks doesn't--"
"Don't let him fool you, Hermione. He's not so innocent."
"Well, then I keep both of you around for the same reason. Now stop picking on Crookshanks; he likes the attention anyway, and I know you wouldn't want to do anything he might like." Hermione took hold of his hand and pulled him away from the cat.
"He infuriates me."
"Because he likes you?"
"Well..."
"Oh, because he likes you when you try so hard, every day, to intimidate him. Yes, I see. Face it, Crookshanks is no Neville. You'll never intimidate that cat; he's too good a judge of character. And lacking a clever segue, we still have two days left; I suggest we take advantage of them." Her thumb stroked over his gently as her eyes held his, and she refused to release either.
"A day spent in the library?" Something of a smile made its way to his lips.
"You read my mind."
They never dared light a fire in the library, and though it was silly because they had magical fire prevention galore, if anything unfortunate happened... As Hermione settled into one of the pair of huge, overstuffed, overly-modern chairs in the room, the subconscious thought swirled in her head that she would be devastated if anything were to happen to this place. It was a library, but so much more, so filled with... love, but not a sentimental human love. Part of her love for learning and intellectual stimulation and knowledge, and Severus' warmed it better than any fire possibly could. This room was well loved, and it reflected that in the warm wood of the floors, the surprising comfort of the odd-looking chairs, the ornately fashioned tables that were new and old at the same time, and in the two people quietly inhabiting it.
Tucking her feet under her and draping an Afghan across her legs, Hermione simply held out her hand. A book wiggled free of the shelf, careful not to disturb any of its neighbors, and glided easily into her hand. "I've read this one," she commented as she looked at the cover--blank, of battered, brown leather--and identified it immediately.
"Then read it again." Severus sat in the other chair, having selected his own book in the ordinary way, and started to read. The book fidgeted in his hands at first, unwilling to sit still, but as more pages turned, the tome settled until its pages flapped with a little sigh of contentment.
"You always get the cooperative ones." Hermione set her book aside, where she knew it would re-shelf itself later, and held out her hand for another book.
Several struggled on the shelves, but only one freed itself. Hermione looked at the cover and frowned. "Leaste Potente Potions? I regret the day I ever got this for you." Yet she opened it anyway and browsed its pages.
"It actually has a rather good formula for an oven cleaner in it," Severus commented seriously, never taking his eyes off his own book.
Hermione paused on a page, and wondered if she should comment on it. "Oh, look... a fertility booster."
In mid-turn, Severus stopped with his hand poised in the air. "Excuse me?"
"Fertility booster. All natural, no magic." She looked at him, waiting for some sort of reply. "You know," she continued when he didn't say anything, "just herbs and roots and--"
"I am perfectly aware of what all natural means," he said with a sharpness Hermione heard only very rarely now. "I could make anything in that book in my sleep." That was not only sharp, but an absolute snap.
Gently, watching the pages to make sure they didn't fold over, Hermione shut the book. She hadn't even seen what was involved in making that potion, nor what page it had been on. "Why--"
Severus went like a losing hand of Exploding Snap. "I am tired of these games, Hermione." He slammed his book shut, which squeaked pitifully. "Are you attempting to give me hints about something? If you are, I'd rather you say it straight out. Tell me." His gaze, to match his voice, was that of the old teacher, the one used to terrorize students, fixed on Hermione.
"It's called a joke, Severus." Undaunted, Hermione's eyes were calm, and her expression unconcerned.
The comment seemed to miss him completely. "Is that what you want?"
"Are you snarling at me?"
"I thought we were comfortable, and you want to add a complication while we are still--"
"I DON'T WANT A BABY!"
Silence descended, and the book in Severus' hands quivered gently. "You don't?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and released a sigh that couldn't hope to hide her exasperation. "I said it was joke. Do you think I'd want to... to try and deal with the responsibility, work, and a war? You? I'm not ready to divide my attention in that many directions yet." She shrugged, concentrating on keeping her voice even, to not come across as emotional and incoherent, as she had been called before by Severus. "I may never be ready to do that. And I may not want to." Hermione quirked one corner of her mouth. "I guess you might have some input on that too."
"Ah." Gaze softening, yet still frowning, Severus looked back down at his book and reopened it. "Well... I suppose I misinterpreted your meaning then."
"I suppose you did."
Morning passed into afternoon, and the air of awkwardness remained. It happened; their lives were not perfect by any means, and their battles could get rather heated... as heated as the two combatants ever dare show.
It got to be dinner, and Hermione had grown tired of the lack of comfort in the day. She sat across the small table from Severus while they both ate a hearty beef stew in silence. The intellectual in her knew beef was not good in both practice and application: the slaughter of cattle was brutal and disgusting and simply inhumane, and the nutritional value of the meat was questionable at best. Sometimes she had to shunt aside the part of her mind that never stopped calculating and just eat some cheesecake or beef stew.
And sometimes...
Without even looking up from her bowl, she used her spoon to flick a glob of stew right at Severus' face. In the chair to her right, Crookshanks' head appeared, like a feline Jack-in-the-box, scenting the escaped food.
"Hermione," Severus warned, wiping his cheek delicately with a white linen napkin.
Resting her head in her left hand and looking very bored, she repeated the gesture, hitting him in the chin this time.
He wiped his face again with a bit more violence in the act. "Now what's wrong?"
The next one hit him in the right eye. Luckily he had closed it.
Hermione watched as his nostrils flared, but that was the only real outward reaction to her behavior. Both of his eyes remained closed as he wiped his face, and she stood from her chair. "You missed a spot," she said, and walked to the other side of the table. "You've still got some on your face."
"I would have none there if you hadn't done such a childish thing," he snapped as his eyes opened slowly and fixed on her.
"You missed a spot." She touched a spot next to his left eye, and trailed her fingertip slowly down his cheek until she reached the corner of his mouth.
At a volume the resonated more from his chest than his vocal chords, he said, "Did I?" His eyes still glittered dangerously, but with a new quality that made Hermione's stomach curl deliciously.
The words wouldn't find the voice, and she abandoned her efforts to speak. It was much easier to just lean down and kiss him.
His hands worked into her hair, holding her head firmly in place, crushing her lips to his. Abruptly, he pulled his hands free and pushed her away. Resuming his uninviting air, he stood and looked down at Hermione. "I'm going to bed."
"It's a bit early for bed, don't you think?"
"Yes." He walked away.
Hermione, blinking, heard his feet on the stairs. She considered cleaning up the dishes as payback for his rather unpleasant invitation, but saw that Crookshanks, currently cleaning her bowl, would take care of them, and hurried after Severus.
There was a sudden cry, and Crookshanks lifted his head quickly. His napping place on the soft cushion of a chair under the window gave him a perfect view of the room for these occasions. But this occasion turned out to be not the emergency he had thought. He cast his wide-pupiled gaze to the bed where the noise had come from and snorted. Should have known with the scent still so heavy in the room.
There'd be no room in the bed for him later, no place to cuddle up to. They'd be keeping the heat all to themselves.
Setting his chin down on his paws, his eyes remained half-lidded for another half hour watching the bed, until he could no longer keep them open, and he drifted to sleep.
He was not awakened by further cries.
Morning dawned to find the bed a confused tangle of people, blankets, and one orange cat.
Hermione woke first, stretching, and disturbing Crookshanks. The cat changed his position to a less convenient spot right between the two human occupants of the bed.
"Oh, you big cuddlebug," Hermione said affectionately and hugged Crookshanks, much to his annoyance.
"I would be if not for the cat."
With a tired smiled parked crookedly on her face, Hermione tilted her head up and kissed the nearest piece of Severus. "One night, the two of you are going to crowd me out of this bed."
Severus looked at her with half-lidded eyes, his features relaxed, but still serious. "Of course not."
Hermione's smile warmed.
"Now that you've discovered our plan, it will have to change, of course."
With a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head, Hermione muttered, "I don't believe you sometimes." A secretive smile wormed its way to her lips as the thoughts wormed into her consciousness. "But only in the best ways."
"Like last night?" He kissed down her neck and across her throat, trapping Crookshanks beneath his chest.
With a plaintive meow, the cat squirmed out and, with his tail held proudly in the air, he removed himself from the bed. There really hadn't been enough room in the bed for him, but that had never stopped him before, and he certainly couldn't allow them to know they had bested him this time. Before leaving the room, he put his front paws on the edge of the bed, then reached over and jabbed the nearest lump. Rewarded with a snap of surprise, Crookshanks trotted out.
Hermione laughed. "I think your partner has just betrayed you."
"An occurrence I am used to, unfortunately." Lifting the covers slightly, he moved closer to her, and slipped his arm under her head. "But I think I'll get over it."
"That's good to hear." She moved closer yet to him, and draped her arm over his side, using the other to caress the underside of his chin, as she would Crookshanks. "Now, about that conversation... My father, you. You remember."
Severus sighed, slipped his arm around Hermione and pulled her closer so they were pressed tightly against one another. She rested her head on his shoulder and waited. "He just wanted to make sure I was treating you as you should be treated."
"You do that most of the time, yes."
Trying to ignore her, he continued. "How things were with you, your job, about the war. Things of that nature."
Hermione nodded. "Things of no consequence. I see."
"I don't find that amusing."
She kissed his nose. "I see that." A smile crept over her lips as she watched his face remain sour; this was almost like their game. "Now, I take it you two talked, and he gave you the rabid dentist treatment, right?"
A silent, affirmative nod.
"But then everything worked out fine, yes?"
Another silent, affirmative nod.
Ah, but when he was silent, that meant there was more than what he was letting on. "So what's not fine then?" With a feather-light touch, she traced his bare collar bone to her sternum, then down the middle of his chest. "It's safe to tell me." Down to his navel, circling it, then to the waistband of his soft cotton, blue boxers.
His neck flushed, but that was the only visible reaction to her touch. It did tease an answer from him. "He asked if we were married."
"What did you say?"
"No, of course. There was no reason to lie."
"Oh." Hermione turned her eyes down from his, looking at the hollow of his throat and frowning gently.
Very deliberately, he traced the lines of her face down to her chin, then tilted it up so their gazes would meet once again. "Now what's not fine?"
"I hate it when you turn the tables on me."
A very brief smile touched the corners of Severus' mouth. "Your father wanted to be sure that he would have the opportunity to give you away at your wedding. Nothing more."
"My wedding?"
Severus didn't speak a reply, only tilting his head to one side slightly. One eyebrow lifted.
"Perhaps... our wedding?" Hermione bit her lower lip and felt like an utter fool, but it was all she could do to contain the battling feelings and doubts within her with those three words.
A thoughtful noise came from Severus' throat, and he gathered her in his arms. "Perhaps."
Hermione, forcing herself to calm down, made a similarly vague noise of approval.
"Did you have a date in mind?"
"No, not specifically."
His hand stroked the back of her head as she inhaled the scent of his bare skin. "This is something we should think on then."
"I agree." Hermione smiled to herself, and relaxed.
------------