The wards were in place, and under the equivalent of a giant magic static dome, the wedding party ate a lovely dinner in the yard. The tenderness of the roast beef was nearly to die for, which Remus commented on enthusiastically. The broasted chicken was succulent to the point of being unreal, seasoned to perfection, just like the rest of the food.
They were all seated at a hexagonal table covered with white linen, two guests to a side. Severus and Hermione sat next to one another, and then on either side of them sat one each of the mysterious men. They never once uttered a word aloud, and very briefly, Hermione had seen them conversing away from the others. They had all looked very grim.
Security. Protection. As she ate, her eyes slid to the man next to Severus every few minutes. Ministry? Possibly, from whatever division Severus worked in. She didn't know, except, and this worried her, that it was more secret than the Department of Mysteries. Was there actually a Magical Espionage branch of the MoM? She made a note to ask later and not expect an answer.
Five seats away from Hermione, Albus Dumbledore stood and waited for the conversation to quiet down. When it did and all attention was directed at him, he spoke. "I think we have a round of toasts to present." One sparkling goblet of pure crystal in his hand, he held it up. "To Severus and Hermione, for not having to make an old man stand through a long ceremony."
Everyone at the table laughed and raised their glasses.
"And to their continued health and happiness." Glasses were raised a bit higher, but before people could drink, Remus stood.
Hermione looked around her well-mannered bodyguard to watch him. Older, greyer, how could he possibly be thinner? It was almost a miracle he had survived this long, and without the wolfsbane potion, she was sure he wouldn't have.
"To Severus, who finally seems to have gotten a sense of humor, and his marital vows. They were an inspiration." A grin split his tired face, and there was polite laughter. Humorous as his vows had been, it seemed less than polite to laugh now, especially for the woman at the table.
Ginny popped up suddenly, and Remus sat slowly. "My turn! To Hermione, for putting up with Harry and my brothers long enough to make it to today. And to, er... Severus." She blushed at the use of his name. "For putting up with Harry and my brothers long enough to make it to today."
More laughter. This was not what Hermione had pictured at all, and she found was she was enjoying it immensely. A quick glance to the man next to her proved that he was not disliking things.
Slowly, Susan, seated between Ginny and Remus, stood. Her eyes avoided her ex-professor. "Anyone who could manage the Christmas party at the Ministry deserves a vacation. And anyone who can manage Philip without killing him deserves a toast."
Hermione smiled widely. Not many people truly knew what a nightmare the party had been, or how much trouble Philip has given her during her time working with him.
McGonagall stood then and looked very pointedly at the two on the opposite side of the table. It was hard to tell that this was an occasion to celebrate by the look on her face, which was as stern as Hermione had ever seen. "I knew when you were both students that you had to ability to do anything you wanted. You only had to try. I hope this means you'll be able to do greater than ever."
Next to her, Severus nodded as his show of respect, while Hermione herself beamed. Compliments were things she was used to, but like this... It was more than she had anticipated, and certainly from the professor she had respected most. More than Dumbledore even, because the old man had his ways that were nearly impossible to interpret, and he could read people sometimes better than they could themselves. She respected him, but not as an educator, not as the headmaster of Hogwarts. She respected him as a man of power, great power.
The same way she respected Voldemort.
Her father was the next to stand, and she took a good look at him for the first time in what felt like ages. Even though he appeared out of place in his suit, it fit him well. He looked very handsome, and not nearly as old as his age. Maybe there was a bit of wizarding blood in the family. His hair was cut very conservatively that, as a dentist, was expected of him as a professional. It was an odd feeling, that she had never looked at her father as anything other than her father. Certainly never as a professional, well-educated man...
Strange that her perception would change on a day like this, after their relationship had been... not strained, but withering. The gap between worlds couldn't be any wider, but they each were moving away from the edges, to immerse themselves in their own lives; she, of course, in the wizarding world, and her parents back in their Muggle lives. Hermione was a bit surprised to find tears pricking her eyes as her father smiled at her and it was so obviously filled with love.
"Now, I might not understand a lot of what you all are talking about most of the time, but there is one thing I know for sure: my daughter is happy. That's all I need to know. I know everything will work out in the end."
An odd statement that, considering, but... She studied her father, and it occurred to her that he knew. All the things she had tried to keep hidden because she didn't want to worry them, he knew about. In the end, they would defeat Voldemort. How could her father be so dense and insightful at the same time, and still be understanding enough to put up with her condescension? The wave of tears came that much faster.
She glanced at her mother, and though the face was a bit strained, she was still smiling, and Hermione could tell it was genuine. She had never realized how much the approval of her parents would mean, not until that very moment. Very lightly, she felt Severus' hand on her leg, and he squeezed. Barely she held on to her control and avoided blubbering in front of everyone.
And then last was Sonia. "Everyone else has been so perfectly eloquent, I don't have much to say other than I'm very pleased to be sharing this special occasion with all those seated at this table, and I couldn't be more pleased to see the two that we have gathered for." She raised her glass, and everyone else did as well. "To Hermione and Severus."
Later, after they had all retired inside to talk, Hermione managed to corner one of the mysterious men. There was one near Severus and herself at all times, even surreptitiously watching the bathroom if one of them disappeared into it. The man himself was of average height, average build, brown hair, brown eyes, a bit square-jawed, and really not terribly identifiable. "Hello," she said quietly.
"Mrs. Snape," he offered politely and nothing more. His eyes rested very briefly on her in a show of respect, but then returned to roaming the surroundings.
"Oh no, I'll keep my name. I don't know how I would handle the end of the Granger line." She took his polite nod for what it was worth. "I know it's not better for Severus, being the last of the Snapes, but... it's what I'm used to."
The man's detached gaze evaluated her. He nodded again.
"So, I was wondering... do you... know Severus?"
"I really can't speak about that," he answered tonelessly.
"Do you work with him? Did he ask you here?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
This was a conversation she was used to. This man most certainly did work with Severus, though she didn't know if he had been assigned or had ben asked to attend. "I see. I suppose I'll let you get back to your bodyguarding then." Smiling pleasantly, she returned to the other guests.
Things were silent in sharp contrast to the rest of Hermione's day. The house was blessedly quiet now that everyone was gone; their presences had been appreciated, and now so were their absences. It was time to wind down and actually allow the truth of the situation to sink in.
"Sometimes," she said into the darkness, her hands resting on Severus' chest, "I wish I had been in Slytherin."
She had expected that to pull a response from him, but there was nothing.
"Do you ever wish I had been in Slytherin? We would have--"
"No."
"No?"
He shifted slightly and put his arm around her shoulders. "Never."
"Why not?"
"Because it would mean you were a Slytherin. As infuriating as I found your reckless Gryffindor behavior to be, you simply wouldn't be you without it. My House loyalty does not and never will surpass my loyalty to you. You in Slytherin would have been a travesty."
Hermione couldn't stop the smile that slid to her lips. "I'm glad you think so." She paused, and the smile slipped away. "I talked to both Albus and Minerva earlier..."
"I know where this is going."
"Do you now?"
"Yes, and I'd hate it."
Hermione blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You, going off to teach at Hogwarts. I'd hate it. I would more than hate it. It's the absolutely last bloody thing I'd want you to do right now... besides trying to be a spy."
Hermione pinched him. "For your cheek."
That brought a short laugh. "I never said you'd be a bad teacher. Far from it, I'm sure. But to have you at the school most of the year... Misery."
There was a faint scratching, and the bedroom door opened.
"Old rat-catcher there would hate it too."
"Don't make me laugh. He doesn't catch rats."
"Hermione."
"I didn't say yes. I'm actually not sure." She moved and propped herself up on the pillows, adjusting her position so he could rest his against her bare breasts. "You know how much I'm dissatisfied with the Ministry, and going back to Hogwarts would give me the chance to be somewhere I've always loved." Absently Hermione ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm going to need to wash your hair again; it's getting oily."
He said barely above a whisper, "I'd still hate it."
"Actually, I wish I had been in Ravenclaw," Hermione said, completely changing the subject. "Ravenclaw in 1970. I would have been able to find someone I had things in common with and not have that stupid House rivalry."
"Ravenclaw, yes, because as a female in Gryffindor, you would have been obligated to swoon over those fools--"
"Cheese?"
"What?"
"Cheese. With your whine."
It was Hermione's turn to be pinched. She swatted his hands away. "Whining is unbecoming, Severus. Besides, though it might have been hard to tell, I'm not much for going directly against school rules, and certainly not in the manner Harry's father and friends did." She smiled, running her hands across his chest. "I would have preferred a nice dark corner of the library, and most preferably sharing a table with a tall, dark Slytherin. We would talk about potions, of course, and maybe experiment with some chemistry..."
"Chemistry." Severus apparently ignored her underlying teasing and made a thoughtful sound. "Tell me, Miss Granger, can your Muggle chemistry create the same effect as one cocoa bean, an ashwinder egg, the tooth of a jarvey, a--"
"Yes, actually. Though lots of Muggles believe in much more simplistic methods, like raw oysters." She smiled at his stunned silence. "Can't stand the things myself though. I prefer good old-fashioned foreplay."
"And why didn't you ever tell me that?"
Hermione laughed loudly, which was quieted by his mouth over hers.
"I'm sorry, but at this time, I feel I must decline your offer. Though the opportunity is a great one, things are at a point I believe it would be unfulfilling to all involved for me to accept your very kind offer. Severus sends his regards and I my regrets. Perhaps at a later date, as I would very much like to return to Hogwarts. Yours, Hermione Granger."
The quill ended its movement and waited, upright, on the parchment.
"That's quite enough," Hermione said, massaging her temple. Though she had agreed to this, it didn't feel correct, to deny something she wanted when it was so freely offered. She hoped what remained unwritten was clear.
Crookshanks toddled up and heaved himself into her lap.
"You're getting heavy," Hermione commented, smiling at the cat fondly and stroking his fur. "Maybe you are catching rats." The smile faded. "When will it end? There has to be an end to all this somewhere, sometime... We can't exist in a state of war, no matter how muted, forever."
The cat began to purr brokenly and closed his eyes.
Hermione looked out the window at the sun streaming through the trees. "What a crappy day to be melancholy," she said and sighed. Her eyes rested back on the letter she was preparing to send to Hogwarts. "One day I'll get the chance, and until then, I just have to stick to the grind." With a delicate and measured wave of her hand, the letter rolled itself and was tied with a gold and green ribbon. "Lorenz, a message to deliver," she said loudly.
There was a moment of stillness, and then the large owl alighted on her shoulder. "Silent as always. I know it's the middle of the night for you, but take this to Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore, love." Hermione affixed the message to the owl's leg, allowed it to nip her finger with a sterile sort of affection, and watched it take flight.
She watched with awe as the huge owl landed on Severus' shoulder.
"Don't gape, Miss Granger. It's unbecoming."
Hermione shut her mouth. "What kind of owl is that? I've never seen one like it before." It was even larger than Crookshanks, and while that was not terribly unusual in the world of owls, this one had such distinctive coloring...
"A brown fish owl. And I'm not surprised you've never seen one before. Not many go to Sri Lanka to find their owls." He stroked the patterned feathers with what looked like affection. "His name is Lorenz. I was fond of his appearance."
The half-lidded yellow eyes gazed impassively at her, and Hermione thought it had learned a thing or two from its master. "Hello, Lorenz," she said, but didn't dare try and touch it. A friendly nip was one thing, but those beaks could be incredibly destructive to the soft flesh of her finger.
Unexpectedly, the bird bobbed its head in what she interpreted as a bow, and Hermione gasped.
"You may touch him now. He should get used to your presence in any case as he will carry post for the both of us."
Still fearing for her finger, Hermione reached up and stroked the delicately striped feathers that covered the owl's front. "OK Lorenz, Severus, now that we're all stuck together, what happens?"
Hermione absently stroked Crookshanks and stared out the window. She hated the necessity of her decision. She certainly didn't like deferring to Severus' wants, but they were still under the status of a "safe house" and her going to teach every day, even living at home, wasn't terribly safe.
There certainly wasn't any way to make him defer to her wants in the situation because it involved him quitting the Ministry and returning, in whatever capacity he could fill, to Hogwarts with her. That wasn't going to happen.
"They own me, Hermione. I might as well wear shackles because they will never let me go while I still have a use in their eyes. That will be..." He looked away, his finger still resting on the point of her chin. "Not until I am dead."
She just stared, wide-eyed.
"Even after Voldemort's defeat, I will continue to be required to pay penance for my past. It is my only option. Failure to do so will no doubt result with an extended stay in Azkaban." He looked at her, his face expressive in its lack of emotion.
"I know it's not the same," she began quietly, still looking half-stunned, "but sometimes I feel the same way. To do something I would prefer would be abandoning where I can be the most help. To leave the Ministry would be turning my back on everyone who is trying to bring down You--Voldemort."
"Guilt. Both of us bound by guilt."
Hermione put on the spectacles and immediately knew she must look in some way like Minerva McGonagall. "I look like a fool, Severus."
"Certainly, but then that means you don't resemble yourself, and that is our goal."
"I guess." She sighed. "Why do I have to look like some school marm and you get to dress casually?" Even if he looked slightly like a leftover, underage, pub crawler.
"I just explained that, Miss Granger. Five points from Gryffindor for being a whiner." He buttoned up his shirt. "You look like... you belong anyway. Yes, perhaps a bit dowdy, but proper." Severus turned and took her hand. "If you ever have doubts," he said seriously, "remember this: you are the most tempting school marm I have ever laid eyes upon."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione pulled away from him and removed her hair from the constricting bun. "That doesn't make me feel better. I don't want to look like a school marm, tempting or not." Deftly she tied her hair back into ponytail and undid the top two buttons of her dress. "Too slutty?" she asked, opening it up to reveal the barest hints of cleavage.
He eyed her chest dispassionately. "No, I would say you are adequately slutty. Shall we go?"
With a snort, she put her arm through his. "Thanks. So you've never been to the movies?"
"Of course not. I make excursions to the Muggle world as little as possible. This one is dangerous enough. Even now I am having my doubts, even with you as my guide."
"You'll manage, I'm sure. Just let me do most of the talking for a change. We'll eat at the theater; I think you'll enjoy it. These places are very posh, but not exclusive. Casual, but not for children. I know you'll appreciate that."
Severus was getting nervous anyway, though unwilling to show it. "Quite. Where shall we head first?"
Hermione consulted her mental map of where they were going. "Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, then it's just a short trip on the tube."
"Tube... It sounds filthy."
With a laugh, Hermione clutched his arm tighter. "It is filthy! Let's go!"
She made to apparate, but he stopped her with a gentle squeeze of her elbow. "Hermione, you know that if I could give you a... honeymoon more elegant than a common trip to the cinema--"
Her fingers over his lips stopped him. "I know, Severus." She leaned up and kissed him.
The end of January was nothing extraordinary outside of the fact that every once in a while, Hermione would be struck with the thought that she was now married. How strange. Unfortunately, if it was from the weather or something else, she noticed Crookshanks gradually slowing down and, the most frightening, losing weight.
"No matter what he says, you'll always be my big boy," she whispered to the ginger cat as he slept deeply, snuggled into the quilt on the bed. Her hand passed gently over his back, and she didn't like the way his fur felt rough and matted, or the way his ribs were more pronounced. A sudden wave of melancholy made her want to cry suddenly for the cat that had been with her for longer than most normal cats would live. "Who will help Severus buy me gifts if you're not around, Crookshanks?" she whispered, fighting back tears.
The cat remained in sleep.
Gently to avoid disturbing her pet, Hermione laid down, fitting herself around Crookshanks, and wept silently.
The first day of February dawned cold and grey. Hermione felt listless and uninspired, and Severus was more temperamental than usual. It didn't help that Crookshanks continued to deteriorate, and Hermione was positive her faithful companion would be ready to leave the mortal coil at any moment.
Work at the Ministry was becoming more intolerable only because she knew what a chance she had been... hell, she had been forced to give up at Hogwarts. What a way to start a marriage.
And with Valentine's Day only a fortnight away, she wasn't sure whether to indulge in the occasion and test Severus' reaction to it, or just ignore the whole thing. Certainly in school she hadn't been terribly fond of the day, but this was as far from her days amongst the Gryffindors as she was physically from the moon.
Of course, Severus was often that same distance from mass sentimentality that the dreaded day encouraged. It was worth a giggle to mention sweetheart's day to him...
Maybe... just a little gift for him with none of the normal trappings. Just something to lighten the oppressive mood that was settling on the house. Even if he snarled at it and turned his sarcasm on her, it would be something to distract her from all the silent turmoil.
Yes, she would get him something. "You help him shop, Crookshanks, now how about me?" she said gently, and filled a small dish with milk. "I spoil you horribly, you know that." The old boy slept a lot, but he was currently watching her intently with eyes that seemed tired to Hermione. "Here you go."
With enthusiasm that managed to lift Hermione a little, Crookshanks began eagerly lapping up the milk, purring loudly.
"Yes, you're going to help me later, or no more milk for you."
Work and Severus' short temper kept Hermione from shopping. While he was in one of his moods, the idea of Valentine's Day was one she didn't even want to hear someone else talking about, let alone bring up the topic or get caught participating in herself. So until she had some time to herself, she avoided the tense subjects and kept to insipid conversation.
It was testament to his bad mood that he never said anything about the lack of intelligent banter. "Is this work related?" she dared a Thursday evening, a week shy of Valentine's Day.
"Is what work related?" he responded tersely, not looking at her. He kept his eyes firmly on the stack of papers he held.
"Your..." These were words to choose carefully. "Less than pleased disposition."
"My mood, you mean."
"I wouldn't call it that, but yes, that's what I'm talking about." So his mood wasn't as bad as she had feared.
"Yes, it has entirely to do with that bloody Ministry and all its worthless red tape. He still didn't look at her. Very business-like, he straightened his sheaf of papers. "Until this mess is taken care of, I'm afraid you'll have to forgive my less than hospitable disposition."
"Of course. I'll just leave you to your work then." She started to leave quietly, but Severus lifted his head suddenly and pinned her in spot with his gaze.
"What's wrong, Hermione?"
"N-nothing... just tired." A partial truth, but she didn't want to burden him with what was a relatively minor concern over Crookshanks. But he was so sincere, concerned, it actually hurt to say that white lie to him.
"And what else?"
Hermione sighed. Of course he wouldn't let it go. "It's just Crookshanks. You don't need to worry about it."
He was on his feet and in front of her immediately. "Did you just hear yourself, Miss Granger? I am surprised at your callous attitude. Don't bother with a brave Gryffindor front this time. Tell me." One long, elegant finger rested across her cheek. "Tell an old man what could cause you of all people to look like... someone who's lost their faith."
She wanted to fall against him and cry, but she only just got her quivering lip under control and said, "Crookshanks is getting old. He looks it, he acts it. I don't know how much..." Quivering lip firmly under control. "He's getting old." That was the best she could do.
"Love," he murmured and drew his finger over her cheek, caressed her lips, then her jaw with his knuckle, to end with his hand under her chin. "You must know it's inevitable."
"I know, but it's hard to watch. He's been with me over fifteen years. I don't know what I'll do when... he's gone." Oh god, that did it. The thought of there not being a big orange cat taking up half the bed in the morning, or scratching at the door when she was taking a bath (the little pervert), or any one of a hundred small things that she would sorely miss... "I know it's stupid," she whispered, and rubbed her eyes in an attempt to banish her tears.
"It's not stupid," he said evenly, with concern, but avoiding any sort of cloying empathy. He wasn't ready to admit it aloud yet, but he would miss that cat terribly.
Hermione leaned into him, and put her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry for bothering you with this. I know you're busy."
"Now, Miss Granger, you know I always can make time for a distraught member of my house." He rubbed her back reassuringly.
As strange as an outsider might have seen it, something about him adopting that whole teacher attitude comforted her in these tremulous moments. It was generally something she associated with safety and security, and a base of strength... She was such a teacher's pet and knew it. "It's everything," she said weakly into his robe. "You're always working and grouchy, I hate my job, and I just want this stupid war to end so I can do what I want for once."
His hand was on the back of her head now. "Tired of being pushed here and there, told what you can do, what you're allowed to enjoy, what to make of your life..."
Hermione nodded.
"I know the feeling. Do you think you can manage through the day?"
Absolutely not, but she nodded anyway. "I think so."
"I'll introduce what I used for all those years. You may find it... liberating."
That subdued expectation was what got her through the day. Hermione had never been so happy to see that fat orange beast waddle down the stairs to greet her, and she scooped him up into her arms. "That's my favorite 'Shanks-boy," she cooed, putting her nose into his long fur.
After Crookshanks finally tired of her cuddling and forced her to release him, Hermione realized the house was otherwise silent. She sighed and looked for the note. There it was, rolled up on the small table and tied with a green ribbon. Even without opening it, she could predict what it would say.
'Hermione, I have been unavoidably detained at the Ministry. I will return at first opportunity. Don't bother to avoid sleep for my return.'
Out of simple habit, she opened the scroll and glanced at it.
Upstairs. Be silent.
Shocked into silence, Hermione removed her heavy cloak and shoes, and padded quietly up the stairs, avoiding the creaking boards of the fifth step. The bedroom door was ajar, but inside was dark. Opening it revealed a dark bedroom, but there was low light flickering from beneath the door to the bath.
Not bothering to knock, Hermione opened the door as silently as possible and took in a very strange scene. There was a single candle, giving off the vague scent of vanilla floating in the air near the ceiling, and Severus was in the tub, immersed in water that was clear except for some iridescent swirls on its surface.
Next to the sink was the strangest thing of all: an old-fashioned alarm clock, complete with brass hammer and two large bells. Even as Hermione watched it, the hands moved and it began ringing with the loudest, most irritating noise she had ever heard. Clapping her hands over her ears, she turned to yell at Severus, but he was already rising from the water, and, without bothering to rush, turned off the alarm.
"I hope your day was tolerable at the very least," he said just slightly above a whisper.
Hermione nodded. It felt wrong to talk and shatter this setting. Outside the alarm, it was utterly peaceful.
"You can speak now. This is what I wanted to show you."
"What was it?" Sounding shaky and unsure, Hermione cleared her throat. "What's in the water?" she asked, sounding a bit more confident now.
Severus turned and let the water drain from the bathtub. "Something I had almost forgotten about. Would you like to try it?"
"I don't even know what it is." Curiosity was getting the better of Hermione though, and whatever he had been doing, she wanted it as well.
He laughed throatily, and just shook his head. When the tub was drained, he began to fill it again, but remained silent.
Hermione watched him.
"The alarm," he said suddenly, adjusting the water temperature, "is to ground you. One hour usually does the trick. Longer and returning can be... uncomfortable." There was a small blue phial on top of the tap that had gone unnoticed that he opened. A silvery liquid drizzled from it and swirled into the churning water. "Go one then. Get undressed and get in." He looked back at her expectantly after the phial had been recapped.
Still unsure as to what this was, but inevitably trusting, Hermione disrobed, and slid into the water, hissing as the slightly hot water hit her sensitive areas. She waited, watching Severus watch her, as the water rose until it hit her chin.
"There. Relax completely, breathe deeply. Just..." He stood and set the alarm. "Relax, and let your mind wander." A lop-sided smile. "Think about potions." And then he slipped from the room and shut the door.
Hermione sat in the hot water, the contents from that mysterious phial swirling around her, and waited. What she was waiting for, she didn't know, but the water and silence and flickering light and gentle smell of vanilla did serve to relax her.
It was when her thoughts began to blur that she wondered what exactly was in her bath water. Thoughts stretched, separating from one another, from herself and where she was, until it was like she was flying. Mind was separate from body was separate from worries.
What was in that water?
Roughly an hour later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom in a fluffy towel, stretching her already loose muscles. Bed sounded glorious at the moment.
"Have a little something to eat," Severus said from the bed. In front of him there was a tray with some bread, a bowl of soup, and a glass of water. "A little something before bed so you don't wake up famished."
"I feel like I could sleep for a week," Hermione said, smiling lazily as she sat next to him, careful not to disturb the tray. She picked up a thick slice of Italian bread, lightly buttered, and began to nibble on it. She went to speak more of the experience, but found the words wouldn't come. It was something she wanted to keep exclusively to herself. And he hadn't asked her anything about it because, of course, he knew. "Thanks," she said quietly, and for the time being, that was the end of it.
The next day went much easier for Hermione, and it was after she left the Ministry at the end of the day she went to Dominion's Clothier. It was an upscale menswear store that she often browsed, but rarely purchased from, and located--conveniently--just a few doors down from Gringotts.
The tall wizard behind the counter watched her as she examined the racks. Under normal circumstances, he would probably be intimidating, but very little managed to do that to her now. Possibly coming face-to-face with Voldemort.
Here was something, a more traditionally cut set of robes, in black, made of a shining, silky soft material. Running her fingers down it, Hermione smiled. Then she saw the price, and almost choked. Just barely she managed to not say something aloud, like, "Holy Merlin, mother of a basilisk!"
"Nundu."
She turned and looked at the wizard. "Pardon me?"
"Nundu. That's what it's made of. We only get something like that once in a lifetime."
Hermione let out a low whistle. "Wow. It's beautiful and completely out of my price range."
"A stunning piece, yes. Perhaps I could... assist you?" Cool and professional, but not completely condescending.
"Perhaps. I was looking for something classical, but not stifling. Subdued, elegant. Classy enough for the Ministry, but not--"
"Of the sort the esteemed Minister wears?"
The man's expression never changed, and Hermione laughed. "Exactly. My... husband is rather too traditional. I'd like to update his clothes a bit, but without getting radical. He's definitely a man of refined tastes. Quality over style." She looked longingly at the robes of nundu skin. "Perhaps just a shirt and trousers. He hates Valentine's Day."
"Not incomprehensible. Perhaps this?" A shirt was suddenly there for Hermione's inspection. "A unique blend. Strong and supple, and quite... enticing."
As Hermione ran her hands over the material, she couldn't help but smile at the liquid feel of the material. In the light, it had the strangest shimmering quality to it. "What's it made of?"
"Silk and demiguise hairs. Not enough to actually turn the wearer invisible of course, but..." He smiled then, both charming and perverted at the same time.
Hermione looked from the shirt to his face. "How much?"
It was the evening before the dreaded day, and Hermione was in high spirits. "I bought you something," she said suddenly as she watched Severus take a sip of steaming mint tea.
He looked up and arched one eyebrow.
"Just because. It has nothing to do with tomorrow." She felt positively giddy about it.
"Ah." Severus took another sip of tea.
Hermione popped to her feet. "I'll go get it." She rushed from the room and returned with a wrapped box, this time with ivory paper and a pure white ribbon. "I hope you like it."
Slowly, Severus freed to box, looking as if it might bite him at any moment. Not receiving any bodily harm, he lifted the lid and stared inside. "And what do you call these?"
"Really sexy."
"Ridiculous, you mean."
"Sexy. Go try them on!" Grinning widely, Hermione watched him lift the contents with just his thumb and index finger. "They won't bite. Just wear them."
"Are you certain they're actually dead?" He eyed the item with clear distaste.
Simply grinning, she grabbed his hand and forced him to his feet, dumping the box on the floor. "Come on, grouch." She led him to the bedroom, then shoved him into the bathroom. "Don't come out until that's all you're wearing," she said, and shut the door.
He grumbled, but soon the sound of clothing being discarded reached her ears, and Hermione hurried to her next task.
For his part, Severus was doing his best to deal with the situation. Nothing quite this... Humiliating wasn't the right word. Horrid perhaps. Ridiculous certainly. Outrageous only from Hermione. The fabric slithered up his legs, and the very concept that he was about to slide the dead flesh of an arctic viper over his privates made him shudder. Not that it felt bad really. It was just creepy. Arctic vipers were some of the most venomous snakes on the planet. "Only for Hermione," he whispered to himself, and emerged from the bathroom.
Hermione was reclining on the bed and smiling. She had shed her robes, and was in a white shirt of some wondrously gauzy material that shimmered in the pale light of the newly risen moon. Blinking several times did not remove the strange effect of the shirt being teasingly transparent. "I forgot," she said breathily, and stood. The shirt came to the middle of her thighs. "I got this for you too."
Their eyes locked. Just as he lifted her, her eyes moved down to what he was wearing, and she began to laugh. Then his fingers started wriggling across her sensitive ribs, and her laughter became howling shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, and her legs flailed.
She was dumped on the bed, and he pounced, pinning her there. "You think these are funny, do you?"
Hermione squirmed beneath him. "Yes, but they also feel..." She paused and gyrated her hips, grinding them against his. Before she could finish, she heard him growl and he kissed her savagely.
Morning dawned a bit too early for Hermione's tastes, but it wasn't quite as bad when she could wake up in some sort of puzzled tangle of limbs and bodies with Severus. She tried to free herself with as little jostling as possible, but for every limb she got loose, he would perform some new Twister-esque move to keep her in bed. "Stop that, and stop pretending to be asleep," she snapped, and finally just pulled herself away from him.
"It was much better when you were here though," Severus murmured, not opening his eyes.
Hermione just snorted, and started her morning routine.
"I got you something for today," he said suddenly as Hermione was pulling out a set of deep red robes.
She paused, then put the robes back, and got out a set of royal blue ones instead. "Did you?" she said, maintaining neutrality in her voice. All she wanted to do was throw herself at him and kiss him senseless.
"It might distract you from the day though. Maybe it should wait until tonight."
Forcing herself to be calm and act as if this was part of what she did each morning, Hermione calmly got out the rest of her clothing. "I doubt it. But if you prefer, it can wait."
"Mm. I'll go get it."
A rustle of fabric from behind her, and from the corner of her eyes, she watched him leave the room. There was a soft whooshing of wings, and Hermione looked up to see their owl sitting on the door. "Hello, Lorenz. A message so early in the morning?"
The owl didn't move, and didn't appear to have a message either. Curious. "A social visit then? I've always thought you were something of an odd duck. No offense."
Lorenz hooted softly, but didn't move.
Another moment passed, and Crookshanks wandered in, stopping at Hermione's feet and looking at her expectantly. He meowed.
Eyes narrowed with suspicion, Hermione looked at the cat and the bird. "This means something, I'm sure." She stopped and lifted Crookshanks. "So what have my husband and his orange cohort gone and done this time?" she asked, scratching her cat under the chin.
"It's not much," Severus said from the hallway, "but you know how I hate this day."
"Of course, Sev--" Her breath caught in her throat as he stepped into the room and she saw what he was holding. "Severus?" She looked at him, her gaze confused and questioning.
"I thought Crookshanks could... acclimate her." Walking over, he stood in front of her, cradling to his chest a small orange and white puff of fur.
Hermione looked at each witness, her gaze becoming more accusing until it returned to Severus. "You even had Lorenz and Crookshanks in on this?"
He just smiled mildly at her. "Certainly. They had to accept her. I wouldn't consider just bringing in a stranger to live with us without getting the approval of the other members of the household." To prove his statement, he held the puffball out to Crookshanks, who began to purr more vigorously and licked the tiny kitten's back.
"Does... she have a name?"
"Not until you give her one."
There was silence while she considered everything that had just happened, and then the tiny animal in her husband's hands. "Kitsune." Hermione smiled, almost shyly. "She even has white feet."
"Indeed."
It was clear he had no idea what she was referring to. "Well, I suppose acquainting myself with her will have to wait until this evening then. I don't believe she'll be too distracting, as I have very little at the Ministry to be distracted from." Hermione, mustering as much dignity and self-control as she could at the moment, ran one finger across the kitten's downy fur, then gave Severus a firm smile. "Thank you." Her eyes teared, but none fell.
"It is my pleasure." He kissed her cheek, then allowed her to resume getting ready.
Though it was true that there was little for her to be distracted from, Hermione was terribly anxious to return home. Susan noted her unusual lack of patience at lunch, and Hermione excitedly told her of the new addition.
Though she was eager to get home as quickly as possible, she still adhered to all the security precautions to maintain the integrity of their protective wards around the house. As soon as she opened the door, she heard a loud squawking noise, and an orange and white blur shot from the library into the sitting room. Crookshanks was close behind. "I'm home?"
"Kitsune is investigating her new surroundings under close supervision," Severus called from down the hall. "Tea is ready."
"I see that," Hermione said and peered into the sitting room. A wild-eyed kitten was clinging to the arm of the sofa, staring intently at her. Crookshanks was eyeing the scene harshly, as if he had never seen such scandalous behavior. Done it, yes, witnessed it, no. Chuckling to herself, Hermione went to fetch herself some tea.
There was comfortable silence as she sat at the table, and Severus placed a steaming mug in front of her. She shook her head as she heard the thudding of paws tearing around on the hardwood floors. "You've had to listen to that all day?"
He shook his head. "After you left, they caterwauled most of the morning."
"Regret it?"
He lifted one eyebrow. "I regret this," he said and tapped his left forearm. "I don't regret a cat."
"Mm. Happy Valentine's Day, even if it is awful."
"Quite right."
Hermione maintained her soft smile as she sipped her tea. This lasted only a few moments as there was a sudden pounding on the front door. Her hand jerked, and she sent tea splattering across the tabletop. "What the--"
Severus was already striding to the front door, and Hermione followed him belatedly, wand in hand.
"Severus Snape."
"You know very well it's me," he snapped.
Hermione could imagine the irritated roll of his eyes at the Ministry agents standing on the porch.
"As a representative of the Ministry of Magic, and as maintainer of this safe house--" Alarm bells went off in Hermione's brain. "--we leave one Garry Fudge in your care." The man in his official looking black robes stepped aside to reveal a young man, boy really, behind him.
"What!?"
"This is a designated safe house. Mr. Fudge has recently been targeted by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and is in need of protection," the Ministry rep replied in his lawkeeper's voice. "This was decided to be the optimal location for him. More information will be provided in the morning."
The boy, looking small and scared, was roughly herded past Severus. He just stood there, huddling into himself, as the agents bid a good evening, and disappeared as abruptly as they had arrived.
"Hell's bells. What are we supposed to do with this?" Severus asked, slamming the door shut and gesturing at the new guest.
TBC