Thanks for your reviews! I just want to state that I think SS/HG rocks, even though some people think otherwise…

So…well…here it is; chapter 13… enjoy!

Chapter 13: Hand in hand

Everyone has a shadow. Everyone possesses a kind soul, and everyone possesses an evil soul. Human nature is all about contradictions; human nature is all about extremes. Several religions have tried to explain this type of opposition; what's more several authors in the past included in their masterpieces ingredients of love and hate as something common found in both men and women.

Everyone has a shadow. Yes. And Severus Snape, my friends, is no exception.

He was holding his wife's hand sweetly, trying to gain what little courage he knew he possessed. But the silence surrounding the both of them was so serene, yet incredibly uncomfortable that he needed to say something in order for the silence to not take over their entire conversation, because the intimacy that it provides is almost intolerable for those with intimacy problems. And so something needed to be said. And he, being the man he was, would speak his mind first.

"Miss…Hermione," he said with a voice he ignored he had, "how do you feel about our marriage?" he asked while walking towards a pine tree that was located near a small cottage.

Severus' throat dried while waiting for an answer. He had never cared much about others; he knew since his mother's death that he was alone. In fact he enjoyed being alone; he knew that possibly no one could understand him to the full extend of the word. People like him, in other words, intellectuals had no business socializing. He was better off; he'd rather read books on a winter afternoon while warming himself near a fire and drinking a hot steamy cup of ginger and mint tea than having a meaningless conversation with a woman as brainless as the mice he used in his Potion's experiments. He was an Englishmen; there were no doubts there. He was as cold as ice and he refused to show his feelings outside the bedroom. It was dangerous; it was dangerous indeed.

He had never loved a woman with the exception of his dear mother. And the feelings Miss Granger was slowly sculpting on his heart were something he had never experienced before. And he liked it. He liked it a lot.

"Well, Severus," she said, a naughty smile on her face, "I like being married so far. I am fond of reading but I must confess that I have read no book about the marvellous feelings you make me experience under the covers."

"Miss Granger, you should know that making love and having sex are two different things," he tried to explain, but she interrupted him when she pressed her thumb on his lips.

"I know, Severus. I know," she sincerely said. Because even though she knew this was all a game for him- a game she was going to play as well- she couldn't resist hearing it from him in the direct way he knew he could speak.

Why? Because no woman can manage to forget the man who took her virginity away, because no woman can manage to deny the feelings that maturing creates in the inexperienced.

She had feelings for him. And she was also dealing with the contradiction of loving someone who hated her, who despised her bare presence. Little did Hermione know that his heart was filled with the same feelings. If only they could speak about their stronger desire!

"And how do you feel about this marriage?" she asked.

"I feel that I have ruined your life," he sincerely answered, not knowing exactly why he had said that.

"Why?" she asked, looking into the horizon. She dare not look him straight in the eyes.

"I have ripped you; I have destroyed your innocence and moreover you will never know what is to be touched by a man you care for. I have ruined your life, Miss Granger. I do hope that someday you may forgive me," he said, taking her jaw in his hands and trying, unsuccessfully, to make her look at him.

"I disagree," she shortly confessed, while standing up from the grass and walking towards the castle again. He quickly stood up, and running frantically, he managed to hold her left arm. She stopped moving; but she couldn't face him after what she had said.

"Why do you disagree, Hermione?" he whispered into her ear while his hands traveled to her hips. She did not answer, "I asked you why do you disagree?" But when she refused to answer again, he held her hips even tighter and with a quick move of his hand, she turned around with her hands resting on his chest. She could feel the accelerated heartbeats and then she understood that she was safe; that he wasn't playing with her, that she was his wife and he was her husband and that nothing could be done to change that.

"I disagree because you are my husband. And you owned the right to make me yours. I will always consider myself lucky to have lost my virtue to such a wonderful lover and furthermore I am sure that our marriage though fake as it may be, will result in great things for the both of us," she concluded. This time she wasn't looking away; she was fully concentrating on his features. His nose was large and hooked, his hair looked oily, his skin was extremely pale and his teeth looked sallow under the sun but sure enough he was handsome. She could not explain what feature of his face she liked the most, but something about his expressions depicted sensibility and intelligence. She liked him. She liked him a lot.

In a way, they were similar and when twin souls find each other nothing can be done to prevent them from uniting. That is, except for them. Their hearts may be burning with passion and love, but their rational selves will never believe that such a wonderful thing can happen to them.

"I see," he said after a couple of minutes of contemplating her freckles, "May I kiss you?" he politely asked, while holding her jaw with both his hands. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Yes, yes you may," she answered, trying hard not to cry or to smile, for that matter.

Because when their lips collided and their tongues gathered on a pleasant hug, nothing in the world mattered, for they have found love; the most amazing feeling; the most affable contradiction.

And with that beautiful kiss, they found their way towards the castle, her hand in his, of course.