With a wave of his wand, Severus cleared the steam from the bathroom mirror and surveyed his reflection. It was a simple glass mirror, not one of those enchanted, talking contraptions that would never cease annoying him, rambling on about the size of his nose and the length of his hair. He stood before it, with a simple white towel slung around his waist.

"Insufferably sexy" He smiled as he recalled Hermione's parting words. Still, they astonished him as he gazed at the man looking back over the silver surface. With a heavy sigh, he raised his wand and began to 'clean himself up'. He began with his hair, still damp from his shower. Several years ago he had adopted the habit of pulling his thick, straight hair back at the nape of his neck and securing it with a leather tie. It had proven much neater and less dangerous during potion brewing by keeping it out of his face and out of the cauldrons. By letting it grow a bit longer, it was easier to secure. So, he had let it grow. Soon, he had just forgotten about it. Now, hanging down around his shoulders and beyond, he frowned as he surveyed the long mess. It had been many, many months since he had used the charms to even out the ragged, split edges. It had grown long now, longer than he had ever let it grow before. He was uncertain just how short he should cut his locks, and unsure exactly what Hermione would find acceptable. With a grimace and a small prayer, he waved his wand, mumbled the charm and tapped his wand at a spot just above his shoulders. Suddenly, the uneven edges were gone, and his hair was dried and neatened up.

Next, he attacked his facial hair. He always had a tendency to grow a rather full beard. Even as a young man, he had shaved in the mornings and by bedtime, he had a raspy shadow covering his chin. In the month since returning from the conference he had not cleared his face of his whiskers once. Now, he tilted his face to the side and examined the length of the growth covering his cheeks and chin. Yes, it was a full-blown beard of several good centimeters growth. It needed some trimming, some evening out, (he tilted his head the other way), perhaps a square cut? Again, Severus took up his wand and went to work. This was more precise trimming; there was no single charm for this. Rather he worked the wand, taking single, small cuts. He moved slowly and carefully, as small pieces of whisker fell into the sink below him. Finally, he rinsed his face with water and stood up straight to examine his work. He frowned, insecure of the results, and of himself in general. It would have to do though, he could do no more, and he could be no more than what he was. He was filled with a sad resignation as he turned from the mirror and left the bathroom.

There was no need to peruse his closets for an outfit. His wardrobe was severely limited to black slacks, white shirts, black frock coats, and black robes. They varied only by materials and cuts. He chose his normal black pants but in a lighter weight twill fabric. Over this, he added an immaculate white linen shirt. His hand halted though, as he reached for a set of over-robes. With the students gone, the formalities could be forgone for the next several months.

Feeling anything but hunger in the pit of his stomach, Severus let himself out of his quarters and made his way to the Great Hall for the evening meal.

The feeling of dread only increased when he entered the vast room and found it filled with party decorations and people milling about. Above the table hung a banner proclaiming "Good Luck Harry." Quickly Severus spun on his heel to make for his dungeons, only to have his escape thwarted by Albus, who grasped his arm firmly and steered him toward his seat. "Severus, so happy you saw fit to finally join us. You're looking well, looking well indeed. Here you go, my boy, sit right here. Hermione should have him here any minute now."

Severus could see most of the regular staff had returned for the party, as well as the few surviving members of the original Order of the Phoenix. His eyes settled at an end of the U-shaped table on Remus and Tonks, both beaming at him. He barely had time to spare a half-smile for them before the hall was plunged into darkness amidst a flurry of whispered announcements of "They're coming."

A minute of silence ticked by, broken here and there by muffled giggles. Then, he could hear her voice, sounding for the entire world like she was doing her best not to burst out in a fit of laughter. "I don't know where everyone is, Harry."

Suddenly the room was flooded again with light and exploding with the voice of the group (with the exception of one, velvety deep voice) shouting in unison "Surprise."

Albus wasted no time, with a wave of his hand, the tables were filled to overflowing with food and the celebration commenced. Severus found himself watching Hermione as she made her way around the table with Harry. He, himself, was crammed into a seat between Hagrid and Mad Eye Moody. So there was no hope of getting anywhere near her anytime soon. Severus simply did what he did best. He seemed to ignore everyone, but in reality, he watched Hermione.

She was dressed in a flowing, and floral print chiffon dress with straps so tiny he couldn't figure out how they held the fabric up, especially considering how deep the v-neckline was dipping. At her ankles he caught a peek of heeled sandals peeking out every now and then, along with a tantalizing bit of leg.

When Hermione and Harry took seats a bit further down the table, the sheer bulk of the giant seated next to him precluded him from seeing her further. With a sigh, he turned his attention to the plate in front of him.

In usual Dumbledorean style, the meal was followed by a huge assortment of rich desserts. Normally, Severus would have forgone any such sweet, as it was usually accompanied by milling around and conversation, but on this evening he was compelled to stay. He steadfastly stayed in his seat and nursed a cup of coffee, while most everyone in the room was on their feet, sharing conversation and good times.

He could barely control a groan when he saw Remus step into his line of vision and lower his extremely pregnant wife into the empty seat next to him.

"What's with the natural hair color, Nymphadora? Practicing so you don't scare the babies?" Severus asked with a smirk.

"Sod off you git. You know the babies are too much of a drain on my powers at this stage to fool around with that sort of stuff. Now then, what's up with you? Lose your wand, or just forget your shaving spells?" Tonks harsh words were contradicted by the twinkle in her eye.

Severus couldn't help smiling as his eyes strayed to the huge bulge underneath Tonk's robes. "Yes, I see you're coming along nicely. And, no, I didn't lose my wand. I just thought it was time for a change."

Above him, Severus heard Remus choke on the cup of coffee he was drinking. "Did you just say it was time for a change?" Remus looked quizzically from Severus to his wife. "He said a change, didn't he?"

Tonks smiled knowingly at her husband. "Yes, I distinctly heard him say it was time for a change." She turned on the Potions Master and pinned him with her eyes. "So, who is she?"

Severus remained aloof. "I don't know what you're prattling on about, Nymphadora."

She knew him too well, though, and knew exactly what buttons to push. "Perhaps we have it wrong, Rem. Maybe it's not a she, after all. Maybe it's a HE."

Severus was quick to step in, too quick in fact. "I assure you it's not a he."

Tonks giggled at his fast response and reached up to run a finger over the fine linen of the shirt. "So, it is a she then. I assume she's here tonight, given the time you took dressing." Quickly, she scanned the room and her eyes settled on Hermione, who was hovering nearby, talking to Poppy and Minerva and sneaking glances at the woman who was touching Severus. A strange expression crossed her face for a moment and Severus mentally prepared himself for a lecture on robbing the cradle. No lecture came though. Tonks simply turned back to him with a soft look in her eyes and leaned in close, so close that even her husband couldn't hear the words she whispered to him. "Be happy."

Next, Tonks, reached out and grabbed a hold of Severus' hands and much to his horror drug them to her pregnant stomach. "Do you feel them, Sev? They're moving, kicking and living, because of you." He was struggling to free his hands, but Tonks held them in an iron grip, while she went on, a tear beginning to wind a path down her cheek. "I haven't had the opportunity to thank you. Rem insisted that you would refuse me."

Severus was finally able to reclaim his hands from the jerking and writhing mound of flesh. "He is correct. There is no need to thank me. I did nothing," he hissed as he rose to his feet so fast he knocked his chair over.

Tonks was struggling, flailing an arm out for her husband and trying valiantly to get on her feet as well. Before Severus could escape, she had a hold of him again, "Don't you understand, Sev. You did everything. You gave us everything." He found himself clutched tightly in the arms of an over-hormonal pregnant witch who was drenching his shirt with tears and thanking him profusely. Severus could do little but pat her on her head, roll his eyes heavenward, and mumble "Your welcome" while her husband and Harry Potter stood by and laughed their asses off at him. The rest of the room watched on, looking very confused.

Finally, with Remus' assistance, he was able to slip from her grasp and slip out the door, intent on finding some solitude. He was certain most of Hermione's evening was going to be occupied by Potter's going away festivities. He would have his walk by the lake alone and then retire to his quarters.

Severus was just leaving the Front door of the Castle when he heard Hermione calling to him. "I thought we were going walking together?" Turning at the sound of her voice, he saw her strolling down the staircase carrying a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a napkin. "It's a warm night, I thought perhaps you might enjoy a drink with me, down by the lake," she explained, handing the bottle to him.

Severus smiled, held the door wide for her, and indicated for her to pass ahead of him. Once outside, Hermione paused and held onto his arm. After a few moments of her teetering from foot to foot, her height dropped down a bit and she smiled, "Ok, that's better, let's go." When she padded down into the lush summer grass, Severus could see she left her heeled summer sandals lying on the front steps of the castle. "Those never would have done for a walk," she explained. "They were killing my feet, and the heels would have been getting caught in the dirt and grass."

They walked for a while in the fading summer sunlight. Their conversation moved from potions research to Ministry news and even some of the latest Hogsmeade gossip. When they had walked a good distance around the lake, Hermione stopped. "This looks like a good place to rest." She handed the napkin to Severus, "Would you transfigure this into a blanket to sit on?"

Severus raised an eyebrow haughtily at the young witch, "What is the matter with your own wand?"

Hermione placed a hand on her hip seductively and began slowly inching her skirt up her leg. "Why, Professor, I'm sure you're aware where witches have to secure their wands when their attire is a bit, shall we say, revealing. Hmmmm, I believe mine is secured two inches or so above my knee so if you'll just give me a second..." Before her skirt had been raised more than three inches, Severus had whipped out his wand and transfigured the napkin into a blanket.

"Point taken, Hermione, please accept my apologies."

Before long, the wine was poured and they were both reclined watching the last of the sunset burn its way over the horizon. Hermione turned and studied him for a while before finally asking, "So, just what part did you play in Tonks' pregnancy?"

Severus closed his eyes and grimaced. Gods, that sounded horrible. He could just imagine what some of the people in the Great Hall may have been thinking. He supposed he should tell her, her of all people. If she was, he hoped, to be a part of her life, then she needed to know and to understand what part he had played in their lives, in those babies' lives.

With a deep breath, he began.

"A couple of years ago Remus came to me with a problem and asking for my assistance. He had been speaking with the Lycanthropy research department at St. Mungo's about participating in one of their studies. Specifically, he wanted to help with a study into identifying the genetic markers of Lycanthropy. Obviously, he and Nymphadora wanted to have a family and if the genetic markers could be identified, then they had a chance to have children of their own."

"He had been told that he would need to have DNA samples taken from various stages of his transformation. They would need to be taken from different transformations, not the same transformations. Thus, the time span involved would be years. This was unacceptable to Remus. He was sure I could develop something to force the transformations. An anti-wolfbane, if you will. He was so confident in me, he actually begged."

Hermione smiled at this and reached out to take Severus' hand and scoot a little closer to him, "So you did it?"

His voice was gruff, "Of course I did, how could I not? I developed a potion to make him transform into his wolf form. Off he went to the experts, happy as a clam. He told them to make him transform as often as they wanted, take as much DNA as they wished, but find his damn genes and help he and his wife to have a baby. Next thing I know there is a drunk and furious Remus in my dungeon. They had sent him packing. They had told him in polite language that if he thought any of them were going to stay in the same room with a transforming or transformed werewolf he was crazy. Find someone to get the DNA himself and they would be happy to do the research."

Again, Hermione moved closer to him, this time, resting her head in the crook of his neck, where he could feel her breath against his bare skin. "So, you took the DNA samples, too?"

Severus set his wine glass down behind him and slid a hand around to the small of her back, lightly tracing circles. "Not just me, my dear. I wasn't crazy enough to do it alone. Potter and I took them together. Night after night for weeks on end Remus transformed. The samples had to be taken and various intervals into the transformation, 10 minutes in, 20 minutes in, 30 minutes, and so on, but not on the same night. It was exhausting for him and dangerous for us. Not even Tonks knows the full extent of the 'research' that we all had to go through, and don't you bloody well tell her."

Hermione had relaxed against him, "Mmmmm, I won't. What happened next?"

"The DNA samples were sent to St. Mungo's where they were able to isolate the Lycanthropic gene in his samples. With some muggle technology and some of Remus' sperm samples, they found which sperm were not carrying the gene. They used in vitro-fertilization to fertilize three of Nymphadora's eggs, implanted them, two of which took. You saw the results of which tonight."

He felt her smile against his skin. "That's so sweet."

With a shift of his hips, she was sprawled beneath him. "Don't ever call me sweet," he growled out before capturing her mouth. There was no hesitance under him, no teasing or innocence. She opened to him and allowed his tongue and his soul to touch hers. This was what had been missing from his life for the last four years and for the last forty.

Her hands found his face and began to trace the angles and threading through his beard. He could feel her smiling even while she still returned his kisses with a fevered passion. His hands were exploring as well, but more interesting places than her face. He had found her wand, attached by a garter to her thigh. It had been carefully laid aside while he went searching for more exciting treasures.

She groaned when his mouth left hers and moved lower, sucking and biting gently as he wet a trail into the deep V of her dress. She wore no bra, since most witches knew a charm or two when they needed to forgo the use of one. The tiny straps on her dress had long since slipped down from her shoulders and he needed no hands to bare her breast to his mouth. At the first, deep pull she arched up off the blanket and began the move her hands restlessly over his back, pulling his shirt loose from his pants and seeking the bare flesh beneath.

He rose above her again, as his hands found the lace panties beneath her skirt. They were already moist and as he ran a finger beneath the edge, her eyes opened wildly and sought out his own. Not to be outdone by him, one of her own hands moved from his bare back and slipped beneath his waistband to grasp his buttocks before continuing it's journey around to the front and to his hot, aching shaft. Her other hand, meanwhile, began to methodically open the buttons on his fly, one by one.

"Slow, slow, slow, slow," his mind began to chant. He had only meant to tease her a bit. He hadn't meant for things to go this far. Now, his body was running like the Hogwarts Express on full throttle. He had to get himself under control or he would take her here and now.

Mustering up the very last vestige of any semblance of power over his libido he pulled her hands very, very carefully away from his very sensitive areas. "Slow, slow, you said you wanted slow," he panted out, struggling with every word. She was protesting, but he wouldn't allow himself to hear her, he couldn't. Still holding onto both of her wrists, he rose to his knees. "Not here, not now, Hermione. You deserve more than a blanket and grass." His breathing was slowing down and it was getting easier to talk and to think. He pulled her to her feet and cupped her cheek. "You deserve candlelight, silk, champagne, and soft music." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead before he stooped to retrieve her wand. The wine bottle, glasses, and blanket were quickly disposed of before he took her in his arms once again. His kiss was whisper soft and gentle. "You deserve perfection."

From the window of the Headmasters office, Sal and Albus watched as the two strolled back to the castle hand in hand. "What the bloody hell was that?" Sal began to flit around the room in a fury. "Did I just see that correctly? Did he have a hand up her skirt and his mouth on her rather nice looking tit and then just STOP!?"

"Wait a second, Salazar. I thought I told you to stop watching them when they were doing what they were doing while they were lying down. Were you doing that astral projection thing again?" Albus was looking more than a little upset with the Slytherin ghost.

"Sod off, Albus. I have more important issues here. He stopped, do you understand? He just stopped dead. You don't think he's, well, not into women, do you? Not that I find it a big deal under normal circumstances, but he is my head of house and I like my head of house to exhibit my personal characteristics and, well, being a poof isn't one of them. I mean, Albus, he just Gods damned stopped."

"Salazar, of all the narrow minded idiotic things that have ever come out of your mouth. Severus is not gay and even if he was who cares? I happen to think he just might care a bit about her and may be taking this a bit slowly. I know that idea may be a bit hard for you to wrap your one-track mind around, but some people think relationships are more than just sex."

In another part of the castle, Hermione was pressed up against the door of her quarters. She was breathing into Severus' ear as she spoke, "So, you're sticking to this crazy, taking it slowly idea? What idiot thought that up?"

"Mmmmmmmm. I'll see you tomorrow." With a last swipe at her lips, he pulled himself away and turned from her to disappear down the dark corridor.

With a satisfied and blissful smile, she let herself into her rooms. The evening had gone much better than she ever had hoped. In a dreamlike daze she wandered to the second floor of her suite and undressed. After slipping into her nightgown, she crawled into her bed, thinking all along of Severus.

Within minutes, though, a cold crept through her body, chilling her to the bone. Warming charms could not cast off the cold, nor the feeling of dread. A voice filled her head, not a silky voice but a terrifying voice. She tried to ignore the voice and finally she succeeded, falling into a fitful sleep. Even in her slumber she was haunted. Her dreams that night were filled not with dreams of love but with nightmares of terror and blood.