Severus added a final ingredient, watching the mixture transform from muddy brown into a deep, rich blue. He gave it several more stirs, feeling triumphant as he lowered the heat on the cauldron.
Five years. He'd spent five bloody years attempting to perfect this potion. Five years of trial and error, small victories followed by bigger frustrations. He'd even started over from scratch a couple times, though never, not once, had he considered giving up. How could he, knowing he was the only one who could hope to find a solution?
It hadn't started that way. Indeed, he'd thought their troubles were behind them, a sense of peace settling over him when they'd arrived at Spinner's End. Hermione seemed equally content, but then her mood had shifted, a change so abrupt he hadn't known what to make of it.
"Severus, I'm fine. Just tired."
At first, he believed her. They were both recovering, after all, drained in the aftermath of that final, harrowing battle. But as the weeks passed, she continued to withdraw, making it clear there was some deeper issue.
"Have I done something to offend you?"
"Not at all. I just… I have a headache."
"Shall I bring you a potion?"
She rejected his offer, mumbling another excuse as she shut the door behind her. The door to his childhood bedroom, to be specific, which had somehow become her room. She'd even started sleeping there, as if dust and cobwebs and a hard, narrow mattress were preferable to sharing his bed.
Still, he tried to be patient. He reminded himself that leaving Hogwarts was a big change, one that would naturally require some adjustment. Perhaps if he just gave it a little more time…
He did give her time, at least for the next few days. He said nothing about her sleeping arrangements, keeping to himself while she did the same. He didn't even comment on her absence at meals, nor on the food supply that seemed to dwindle overnight. Half a loaf of bread, several slices of cheese, a bit of roasted chicken…
"Are you pregnant?"
Hermione gasped, staring at him as if he'd sprouted a second head. She'd just emerged from the bathroom, the two of them standing inches apart in the cramped hallway.
"What?!"
"Pregnant," he repeated, lingering over each syllable as the pieces settled into place. Tired. Moody. Withdrawn. Those symptoms were eerily familiar, as was the change in her eating habits. Skipping meals? He'd seen that before, recalling her struggles with morning sickness.
She shook her head. "That's impossible."
Was it? True, they hadn't slept together since Hogwarts, and before that, he'd always taken precautions. But his potions had also been tampered with numerous times, including incidents he still couldn't explain.
"Perhaps we should cast the charm," he said. "Just to be sure."
She laughed, though it was a hollow sound, no hint of humor in her eyes. Again, she shook her head, gesturing at the bathroom.
"Do you need me to explain what I was doing in there? Trust me, I'm sure."
It took him a minute to catch her meaning. When he did, he felt awkward, not bothering to stop her as she brushed past him. She shut the bedroom door behind her, a sharp click followed by silence.
He shouldn't have pushed the issue. Severus knew that, cursing under his breath as he headed downstairs. Nonetheless, he understood why he'd done it, why some small part of him had even hoped it was true. Pregnancy was an obstacle he knew how to face, one that would've allowed him to offer solutions. Termination potion? Easy enough. A hypothetical child? Not so easy, perhaps, but he would've managed.
Now? He didn't know what to think, having run out of excuses for her peculiar behavior. Adjusting to a new living situation? Bollocks. They'd lived together in the Room of Requirement for weeks, and never, not once, had she shown any discomfort. She'd slept beside him night after night, seeming to crave his company as much as he'd craved hers.
So what happened? What was different now? As far as he could see, their circumstances had only changed for the better. No prying eyes. No threat of expulsion or an untimely sacking. Most of all? No one was trying to kill them. One would think…
Then again, perhaps it wasn't so simple. What had she said about her relationship with Weasley? Something about constant danger drawing them together, a bond she'd mistaken for love. Those feelings had lingered until the war was over, only to fade as she'd settled in at the Burrow.
As much as he hated to admit it, the similarities were uncanny. Even her behavior… she'd tried to distance herself from Weasley, too, hadn't she? Not that he could blame her, but… well, that wasn't the point, was it?
No. There was a difference between wishful thinking and reality, between imagining a life together and coming to terms with what that meant. All those nights at Hogwarts, locked away in their hidden sanctuary…
Even at the time, it had felt like a dream. Shared moments seemed sacred somehow, their relationship shrouded in secrecy as they'd fought for survival. Always some obstacle, another crisis… stressful, to say the least, yet it had heightened the closeness between them, deepening their bond until it felt unbreakable.
Severus still felt that way. He'd never been more in love, unable to imagine a future without her. But what about her feelings? If her affection had faded, if she'd changed her mind…
Would she tell him? Or was she already doing what she'd done with Weasley, forcing herself to stay out of guilt or obligation?
Severus shook his head, summoning a bottle of Firewhiskey. He took a long swallow, nerves settling somewhat as the familiar warmth spread through his bones. One more sip and he pushed the bottle away, determined to keep a clear head as he figured out what to do.
What could he do, really? He wasn't Weasley, willing to pretend ignorance as long as he got what he wanted. Just the thought of her going through the motions, struggling to hide her distaste…
No. He'd never be able to live with that, even if the alternative was living alone.
Gathering his resolve, he swallowed hard before he headed upstairs. By then, it was well past nightfall, the house eerily quiet as he tapped on the bedroom door.
No answer.
He knocked a bit louder, wondering if she'd fallen asleep.
"Go away!"
It wasn't what she said. It was the way she said it, her voice strained, almost desperate. There was a low groan followed by silence, a clear sign that she'd cast Muffliato. Hastily, he canceled the spell, alarmed by renewed sounds of her distress. She had no reason to hold back now, assuming he couldn't hear her as she let out a ragged sob.
This time, he didn't bother to knock, blowing the door straight off its hinges. He stepped into the room, breath catching in his throat as he spotted her on the floor.
"I'm… I'm…"
"Don't you bloody dare tell me you're fine. I'm not blind, nor am I stupid."
She moaned in response, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please… don't…"
"Don't touch you?"
The way she'd been keeping her distance, avoiding physical contact? He'd blamed it on feelings or lack thereof, never even suspecting…
"Why didn't you tell me?" he said quietly.
She couldn't answer, though deep down, he knew what she would say. He'd been through it himself, after all, cringing as he remembered the Dark Mark. Those nights of agony… he'd suffered through them alone, not wanting to worry her when he knew damn well there was nothing she could do.
Of course, that was the Dark Mark. This was the Cruciatus.
"I'll return shortly."
He retrieved a vial from the bathroom, uncapping it as he knelt beside her.
"Take it."
Cracking an eye open, she shook her head as she spotted the potion. "It won't…"
"It will. Now take it before I shove it down your throat."
He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, though the threat had the desired effect. She swallowed a few drops, tension draining from her body as her eyes widened in surprise.
"But I thought…"
"You thought that the aftereffects couldn't be treated?"
She nodded, pushing herself into a sitting position.
"Officially, there is no treatment," he said. "Not one that's easily accessible, at any rate. The potion you just took is extremely complex…"
"How complex?"
"The Wolfsbane Potion would look simple by comparison."
That was an understatement, though he couldn't think of a better frame of reference. It was by far the most complicated potion he'd ever brewed, despite his sporadic attempts to simplify the process.
"Is it a cure?"
He hesitated, suppressing a sigh. "I'm afraid not."
She knew the damage was permanent. He could see it in her eyes, still bloodshot from crying as they met his. He'd never hated Bellatrix more than he did in that moment, wishing he had the power to put her soul back in her body just to see it ripped out again. He'd summon an entire horde of Dementors, commanding them to do it once, twice, a thousand more times before he was satisfied.
"Well, at least the pain is gone," she said brightly. "I feel better than I have in weeks."
He nodded. "A dose every few days should be sufficient, though you may need to take it more often."
That was his other concern. He had enough for a month, maybe two. After that? She'd have no choice but to suffer, forced to wait until the next batch matured. Six bloody months…
There had to be a better way.
That thought quickly became an obsession, his driving motivation from that moment on. He started his experiments the next morning, his efforts rewarded when he found a way to ration her dose. Two drops rather than several… it was a small change, though enough to get her by until the new batch was ready.
Meanwhile, the distance between them vanished, almost as if it had never existed at all. She slept in his arms that night and every night thereafter, the two of them settling into a comfortable routine. He got up early to work in his lab, allowing her to sleep in before joining her for breakfast. Following that, they spent their afternoons in the sitting room, enjoying a bit of tea or reading in companionable silence. Quiet conversations over dinner, perhaps an evening walk…
Of course, it was the nights he liked best, holding her close beneath the moonlight that shone through the window. Her beautiful dark eyes, hazy with passion, soft sounds of pleasure echoing off the walls…
"I've missed you," she whispered one night, still breathless in the aftermath of their lovemaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't…"
"Don't apologize," he said, reminding her that he'd endured the Cruciatus, too. He'd never forget what it was like to recover from that experience, nerves so raw that even the slightest touch was unbearable.
"Yeah, but you didn't know it was the Cruciatus."
"No," he admitted. "I jumped to my own conclusions."
"What conclusions?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does to me," she said. "Tell me."
He resisted at first, though he knew it was a useless effort. She was nothing if not persistent, eyes shining with curiosity as she pressed him for answers.
"This isn't Hogwarts."
"What?"
Somehow, he managed to explain his insecurities, the fear that her feelings had changed along with their circumstances. Now that the danger had passed, leaving her free to do whatever she chose…
In truth, those worries hadn't faded. Not completely. Despite their reconciliation, despite knowing the real reason for her strange behavior? Some part of him still feared that he might lose her.
Of course, he couldn't admit that. He focused on his earlier assumptions instead, watching her expression shift from surprise to bewilderment.
"But that doesn't make sense. Why would I have stayed if I didn't…"
"You stayed with Weasley."
"Ron? That's completely different."
"How?"
"Because I was supposed to love him. Everyone thought so, especially Ron, and I believed them. I thought the problem was me, that if I just tried a little harder…"
"Love cannot be forced."
"Exactly," she said, "I couldn't make myself love Ron, just like I couldn't stop myself from loving you. Even when I knew I wasn't supposed to, I couldn't help it."
"Neither could I."
She smiled, though only briefly, her mouth twisting as her body stiffened. By then, he'd learned to recognize the signs, plucking a vial from the bedside table.
"Bloody hell…"
"I know," he said quietly. "Here, open your mouth."
He placed a couple drops on her tongue, relieved when he felt her relax. Her eyes fluttered closed, a single tear sliding down her cheek as she lay back against the pillows.
"Better?"
"For now."
The words sounded hollow, an inescapable reminder that it was only a matter of time. Two days, maybe three, and she'd be in agony again, desperate for the relief that only he could give.
That was another thing that troubled him. Even if she did love him, she was also dependent, unable to function without the potion. He didn't mind providing it, of course, but the idea of her being bound to him for that reason…
"You still have a choice," he said. "I want you to know that."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"If you change your mind, if you decide this isn't what you want…"
"I already told you…"
He shook his head. "Let me finish."
She sighed, motioning for him to continue.
"You'll have your potion," he said. "I'll make sure of that no matter what you choose to do, either now or in the future. Do you understand?"
The thought of her leaving was unbearable, yet still, he needed her to know it was an option. He knew better than anyone what it was like to be chained to another person, whether out of guilt or obligation or as a matter of unfortunate necessity. Dumbledore, Voldemort… only one had been his enemy, though in the end, he'd resented them both. The lack of freedom, the knowledge that he didn't have a choice…
"I don't want to leave."
"Even if you feel that way now…"
"Severus," she interrupted, her voice quiet. "This has to stop."
"What does?"
"This! Doubting my feelings, expecting me to change my mind, or…"
"I don't doubt…"
He trailed off, knowing she was right. He had doubted her, particularly when she'd become withdrawn, bracing himself for the worst. Under the circumstances, perhaps that made sense, but now? Why was he still convinced that she'd leave him, or worse, that she'd stay for the wrong reasons? Why, despite all evidence to the contrary?
"It isn't intentional," he said. "I just don't know how…"
"How to what?"
"Believe."
Thankfully, she didn't ask him to elaborate, seeming to understand that some things were too personal, too painful to put into words. All the things he'd lost, hopes that had been dashed, followed by countless years when he hadn't allowed himself to hope at all…
The truth was, he'd never known how to be optimistic. If life had taught him anything, it was how to cope with disappointment, knowing full well that he had no right to expect anything else.
Of course, that was before his miraculous survival, before he'd fulfilled his promise and learned how to forgive himself. And how had that happened? Who had given him that second chance? Hermione. She'd broken all the rules, defying expectations that had weighed him down for a lifetime.
"I don't know how to believe," he said, "but I'm learning."
Clearly, that was enough. She smiled, leaning in for a slow, deep kiss that stole his breath away. That was all the convincing he needed, at least for the time being, turning his attention to more pleasant things as he stretched out beside her. The taste of her mouth. Her soft, smooth skin. She draped a leg over his waist, whimpering as he guided himself inside her, filling her completely.
He rocked his hips against hers, slowly at first and then faster, driven half mad by the sensations, the friction, her exquisite heat…
"Severus…"
A single word and he was lost, groaning in response as wave after wave of pleasure shuddered through him. Sated, utterly spent… at last, he opened his eyes, only to chuckle under his breath.
"Hermione?"
"Mmmm?"
"Nothing," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."
Strange, but this felt much more intimate than what they'd just done. Lying there face to face, her breath mingling with his… it took him a minute to realize he was still inside her, a connection he was reluctant to break. Her warmth, her softness… it was no longer arousing, but comforting, the closest he'd ever felt to another human being.
Her presence in his life had indeed changed everything… well, with one glaring exception.
"Do you like it here?"
"What?" Hermione paused, her spoon hovering in midair.
"This house," he said. "Do you like it?"
He followed the direction of her eyes, both of them studying the faded wallpaper, the rickety table where they were eating breakfast. She glanced at the window, cloudy and coated with dust, her expression carefully neutral.
"I… I don't hate it."
"I do."
"You do? Well, maybe some new furniture…"
He shook his head. "I don't want furniture. I want a new life."
Last night, lying in the darkness… he'd come to a single, glaringly obvious conclusion. He couldn't truly move on until he left Spinner's End. This place was tainted by too many bad memories, the walls practically reeking of despair. Not just his own, but his mother's, too. She'd been miserable here, her best years squandered on a pathetic drunk who hadn't given a damn…
"University," he said abruptly. "Would you still like to go?"
"Yes, though I'll need to save up."
"I'll pay for it."
"Severus, you can't…"
"Can't afford it? I most certainly can."
"No," she said. "I mean, I can't let you do that. It's too much."
It took quite a bit of convincing, though eventually, she accepted his offer. They requested information from more than a dozen schools, settling on two that she liked.
"Switzerland or the States?" she asked him a couple weeks later. "I can't decide."
"Depends on what you'd like to study, I suppose, though Salem University is known for its exemplary Potions department. Assuming they would hire me…"
"You want to go back to teaching?"
"Not necessarily, though it would be nice to have access to their facilities."
In the end, that was the deciding factor. He needed to continue his research, all the more so if she was going to be a full-time student. She'd have to take the potion, possibly on a daily basis. Without it, the pain would be far too intrusive for her to handle the workload.
"Salem it is," she said, "though there's one problem."
"What's that?"
"My N.E. . I never took them."
"You have your O. ," he pointed out. "Not to mention glowing recommendations from your former teachers. I'm sure that will be more than sufficient…"
She shook her head. "I want to do it right."
Of course she did. Deep down, she was still an overachiever, eager to take on extra work even when it was completely unnecessary. Frustrating, perhaps, though he supposed it was part of her charm. It had also helped them win a war, which would've never happened if her lazy friends had been left to their own devices.
"Very well," he said. "I'll make the arrangements."
To his relief, there was no need to return to Hogwarts. She took them at the Ministry instead, earning an O in every subject. Naturally, the university accepted her without hesitation, offering her a full scholarship.
"The semester starts in two weeks," she said, scanning her acceptance letter. "Will that give us enough time?"
"Time to do what?"
"You know, sell the house, and…"
He snorted. "No one is going to buy this dump."
"What will you do with it, then?"
"Storage," he said. "I'll be leaving most of my things here, at least for the time being."
As much as he wanted a clean break, he knew it wouldn't be practical. There was no telling where they'd be living two weeks from now, nor if that residence would be temporary or permanent. For all he knew, Massachusetts would be an absolute hellhole. No sense in hauling a library's worth of books over there, only to have to move them back at the first opportunity.
"A hellhole?" Hermione shook her head, not bothering to hide her amusement. "I'm sure it won't be as bad as all that."
As usual, Hermione was right. Salem was anything but a hellhole, a small coastal town filled with peaceful, tree-lined streets. Even the Muggle part of the city was pleasant, several passersby murmuring greetings as they passed.
"Salem Witch Museum," she said, pointing to a cathedral style building in the distance. "I think that's it."
They entered through the back, locating a single, partially hidden corridor. It led to what appeared to be a storage closet, though like so many things in the Magical world, appearances could be deceiving. Three taps on the door and it slid aside, revealing an underground tunnel.
This was the real Salem, Severus realized as they emerged onto the street. No vehicles. No modern amenities. It was as if they'd traveled back in time, footsteps echoing off the well-worn cobblestones. The shops were different, as were the people, a group of witches passing by dressed in brightly colored robes.
"There's the school," Hermione said in a hushed voice. "Do you see it?"
If she'd been anyone else, he would've rolled his eyes, informing her that he wasn't blind. The massive stone structure dominated his field of vision, surrounded by smaller buildings of a similar style. Each one had a high, peaked roof, the windows decorated in intricate stained glass.
"I see it," he said mildly. "Shall we go inside?"
It didn't take them long to settle in. They found a house the next day, a two-story Colonial with a wraparound porch. It was within walking distance of the university, yet relatively private, surrounded by a profusion of trees and a wrought iron fence.
"Are you sure you can afford the rent?"
Severus hesitated, pulling a dusty cover off the couch. The furniture was much nicer than what he'd left behind at Spinner's End, particularly the elegant dining set and canopy bed upstairs.
"I can afford it," he said, "along with anything else we might need. You'll also have access to my account as soon as I can make the arrangements."
By the end of the week, his assets had been transferred from Gringott's to the local bank. They visited the shops, purchasing her textbooks and supplies, not to mention an entirely new wardrobe. The house was stocked with food and other essentials… he'd even found time to set up a potions lab in the basement.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?"
"I… I think so."
"You'll do fine," he said. "Just remember to take your potion."
For the first year, Severus stayed home, continuing his experiments while Hermione adjusted to college life. Her curriculum was far more demanding than it had been at Hogwarts, a packed schedule followed by endless hours of homework. He would've felt sorry for her if she hadn't enjoyed it so much. She even made friends, often joining them for coffee or study sessions at the library.
He missed her when she was gone. Of course he did, though he had no wish to isolate her either. She'd had enough of that at Spinner's End… besides, he'd made a few acquaintances of his own.
"Back for more thistleweed already? You're spending a fortune on this stuff!"
"Only because your prices are ridiculous. Perhaps you should give me a discount as a reward for my frequent patronage."
"Ha! Fat chance."
His name was Artie, owner of the local apothecary. Surly old bastard, though Severus didn't mind. Artie's knowledge was unparalleled, something he was happy to show off at any given opportunity. Useful, to say the least… Severus still had a lot to learn about native ingredients.
"Why not try Gaultheria procumbens? Great for pain relief."
He did try it, pleasantly surprised by the results. It prolonged the effects of the potion, each dose lasting a week rather than wearing off every couple of days.
"There's an opening in the research department," Hermione told him over dinner one night. "Maybe you should apply."
It was the opportunity he'd been waiting for, opening up a world of possibilities. Better equipment. Unlimited resources. He applied the next day, presenting a thorough account of his work history along with several recommendations from former colleagues.
"Excellent qualifications, Mr. Snape. Can you start on Friday?"
With that, Severus and Hermione started a new routine. He walked to school with her each morning, the two of them parting ways in the main hall. He'd head downstairs to the research department, helping himself to a cup of coffee before he got to work.
Without question, it was the best job he'd ever had. He was allowed to work independently with plenty of freedom to choose his own projects. No restrictions. No deadlines. He could immerse himself completely, experimenting with familiar ingredients along with quite a few he'd never encountered.
"A satisfactory potion, Mr. Waters, though there's a final step you can take to increase the potency. Do you know what it is?"
"Exposure to sunlight?"
"Very good. Go ahead and take it upstairs."
Officially, he wasn't a teacher, though he often worked with students who were pursuing Potions degrees. To his surprise, he rather enjoyed it. They were mature and studious, worlds apart from the unruly children he'd been forced to deal with at Hogwarts.
For the next couple years, he worked tirelessly, producing results that amazed his colleagues. He simplified the creation process for a number of potions, submitting his revisions to the board for approval. It was a slow process, but a rewarding one. He received full credit for his work, multiple textbooks updated to reflect the new techniques.
Of course, Hermione's potion was his biggest priority. He worked on it whenever he had the chance, always searching for improvements. Thus far, he'd done fairly well. She only had to take it once a month now, a single drop proving to be sufficient.
Still, it wasn't enough. He had bigger ambitions, experiments he'd been conducting without her knowledge. A longshot, to say the least, but if he succeeded…
"What is it?" Hermione said, frowning as she examined the potion. It was a different color than her usual treatment, soft midnight blue shimmering beneath the torchlight.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
Severus nodded. "Take it."
Uncapping the vial, she tipped the potion into her mouth. It had the consistency of treacle, the bitter taste nearly making her gag as she forced herself to swallow. "Ugh! Severus, what…"
She trailed off, her eyes widening as a strange yet familiar sensation fluttered through her. She'd felt something similar when she'd used Dittany, an open wound gradually healing as the skin knitted itself back together.
"What's happening?" Severus said. "What are you feeling?"
"I… I'm not sure."
Overwhelmed though she was, she did her best to describe the sensations, watching his expression shift several times. Wary, almost fearful, then hopeful… finally, he squeezed his eyes shut, throat working convulsively like he was fighting to hold back tears.
"Severus?"
"It worked," he whispered. "Bloody hell, it worked."
At first, she didn't believe it. Maybe she was afraid to, having resigned herself to her condition. Really, it wasn't so bad. Just a few excruciating minutes before the treatment kicked in, buying her a few more weeks of relief…
She was used to it by now, already bracing herself for the next flareup. One month, two months, three…
"What's the date today?"
Severus yawned, eyes meeting hers as he turned onto his side. "The 24th, I believe? No, 25th."
"Four months," she said. "Almost five, and it hasn't come back."
"Indeed."
He looked pleased with himself, just as he always did when the subject came up. Really, why shouldn't he be? What he'd done was remarkable, to say the least, freeing her from a lifetime of pain.
"You're a genius," she said. "Have I ever told you that?"
"Tell me again."
She smiled, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Genius."
Of course, it wasn't just his genius. It was also his persistence, his refusal to give up when the odds were stacked against him. Never, not once, had he backed down from a challenge. That was as true now as it had been during the war, allowing him to accomplish extraordinary, seemingly impossible things.
"So are you."
"What?"
"A genius," he said. "I've always thought so, even if it took me years to admit it."
She blushed, unable to think of a response. All she could do was kiss him, overwhelmed by feelings that couldn't be translated into words. Thankfully, he seemed to understand, kissing her back with equal fervor as he lowered her onto the pillows.
"Severus… we can't."
"Why not?"
"I'll be late."
"Nearly four years of perfect attendance," he said. "You can afford to miss one class."
She couldn't argue with that, shivering with anticipation as he unbuttoned her nightgown. His mouth on her breasts, her stomach and thighs… she gasped as he buried his face between them, teasing her with the tip of his tongue.
It could've been minutes or hours. She lost all track of time, head falling back against the pillow. Close, so close…
"Now."
She cried out in response, grabbing fistfuls of blanket as he worked his way back up her body. The intensity in his eyes, the taste of her on his lips…
"My turn," he whispered against her mouth.
"Your turn for what?" she said, feigning innocence.
"Anything. I'm completely at your mercy."
"Completely?"
"Completely."
She'd never seen him so submissive, stretched out on his back with his arms flung over his head. That gave her an idea, though she hesitated, not sure if he'd cooperate.
"Accio scarf."
She heard his breath catch, something wicked glinting in his eyes as she tied his wrists to the bed frame. Not too tight, just enough to hold him in place…
"Is this okay?"
"What do you think?"
He smirked as he said it, a clear sign that she was free to proceed.
She took her time, nibbling his neck, his ears, pressing her lips to the scar on the side of his throat. It was faint now, barely visible, a reminder of suffering, but more importantly, of healing. Not just his healing, but hers, too. They'd recovered together, inextricably bound by the experience.
"I love you."
"Likewise," he said, panting softly as she trailed kisses across his chest. She caught a nipple in her mouth, sucking it gently, sliding her fingers beneath his waistband.
Clearly, he'd been waiting for that. He lifted his hips, the movement so abrupt it nearly knocked her over.
"Did you want me to take them off?"
"Stupid question," he said, managing to roll his eyes despite his growing desperation.
"Fine, I'll leave them on then."
"No! No, I meant…"
She took pity on him, suppressing a giggle as she pulled his underwear down over his legs. His erection sprang free, though she ignored it, kissing his thighs, his stomach, even his hip bones as he grunted in frustration.
"This is torture."
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No. I want…"
"Ask me nicely."
"Please," he said, his voice trembling with need. "Please, just…"
With that, she couldn't bring herself to tease him anymore. She took him into her mouth, so swift and sudden that he gasped in response. Slow at first, then faster… she knew exactly how to please him, reading his cues as she applied more suction. Breath swift and erratic. Beads of sweat on his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut, muscles tensing…
"Now," she whispered, replacing her mouth with her hand. He was so far gone that it didn't matter, groaning something that might've been her name as he pulsed between her fingers.
In the aftermath, he really did look helpless, lying there spent with his arms still tied to the bed frame. Of course, it was only a facade. He could've freed himself at any time, something he proved with a bit of wandless magic.
"Are you hungry?" he said, kissing her shoulder as he pushed himself into a sitting position.
"Starving."
They spent the rest of the day in bed, summoning a teapot and fruit along with a basket of muffins. Neither of them bothered to get dressed, bodies warm and sated as they dozed beneath the afternoon sunlight. They didn't wake up until nightfall, a slight chill creeping into the room as Hermione got up to close the window.
"Four classes."
"What?"
"You told me I could afford to miss one class," she said. "I missed four."
"Are you sorry?"
Grabbing a blanket, she covered them both as she snuggled back into his arms. She sighed in contentment, lips curving into a smile as they brushed against his.
"What do you think?"
Severus was glad he'd convinced Hermione to take a day off. The next few weeks were stressful, to say the least, hectic days followed by sleepless nights as she prepared for her final exams.
"I don't know why you're so worried," he said. "It isn't as if you've ever failed a test."
"This isn't a test. It's the test. If I don't pass…"
"Then you can take it again."
"Right. Then everyone will know I'm a failure."
"Your friends will be concerned with their own grades, not yours. At any rate, you're not going to fail."
"You don't know that."
He did know, though he chose not to argue any further. Instead, he tolerated her erratic behavior, reminding himself that it would be over soon enough. This was indeed the test, the last exams she'd ever take as a college student. Assuming she passed, and of course, she would, she'd be ready for graduation.
"Get some sleep," he told her the night before the exams. "That will be far more helpful than any last minute cramming."
To his surprise, she took his advice, though she was probably too exhausted to do anything else. She slept for a full 10 hours, and even then, he had to drag her out of bed the next morning.
"You don't have any Felix Felicis, do you?"
"You don't need it," he said. "Here, have some coffee."
A week later, her results arrived in the mail, though she was too anxious to open them. She passed the scroll to him instead, holding her breath as he broke the seal.
"Well?"
"Dear Miss Granger," he recited in his most serious voice. "We regret to inform you that your scores have been lost…"
"Severus!"
"You passed, of course. A+ in every subject."
"Really?"
He nodded, handing her the scroll. She scanned it several times, her face breaking into a huge grin.
"Well done," he said, "though hardly surprising. I believe I predicted…"
"Severus?"
"Yes?"
"Don't gloat."
He smirked, turning his attention to the other mail. A couple of newsletters, several advertisements…
"Here."
"What is it?" she said.
"Letter from Potter."
That was nothing unusual. He wrote her every few weeks, as did various members of the Weasley clan. She'd even attended a couple of their weddings over the years, though Severus had chosen to remain in Massachusetts.
It wasn't due to hard feelings. He was long past that now, having accepted Potter and even Weasley as part of her life. Still, that part felt separate from him, from the existence they shared… he didn't belong in that space, just as Potter and Weasley would never fit in with him and Hermione.
"What does it say?"
"They want me to come visit," she said. "To celebrate the baby, you know."
"Baby?"
"I told you about it, remember? Ginny's due next month."
He didn't recall, though he chose not to say so. Instead, he nodded, maintaining an expression of mild interest.
"Molly's thrilled, of course. Harry says she's practically moved in with them, which… he's too polite to say so, but I can tell it's driving him crazy."
"Yes, well, perhaps he should've married someone with a less obnoxious mother."
"Don't be snarky."
"Forgive me. I was merely pointing out that he knew what he was getting into."
"Maybe, but he loves Ginny. If my parents…"
She trailed off, her expression suddenly haunted. It was a subject that rarely came up, one he carefully avoided because it caused her so much pain. Nonetheless, he understood what she was saying, or more specifically, what she hadn't said. He drew her into his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead.
"You could be related to a band of trolls, and I'd still be with you."
"Trolls?"
"Trolls, werewolves, centaurs…"
She laughed, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear. "I'm glad you feel that way. I just wish…"
"I know."
An hour later, she responded to the letter, informing Potter that she was coming for a visit. There was no reason not to, really, considering that she'd be graduating in a few days. No classes, no summer plans… of course, that was true for Severus, too. He could do whatever he wanted, up to and including accompanying her on her trip.
"You're coming with me? Really?"
He nodded. "I have a few loose ends to tie up."
"I hate being pregnant."
Hermione couldn't blame Ginny. She looked miserable, panting and heaving as she struggled to get up from the couch. Her stomach was enormous, face slightly swollen and pale with fatigue.
"I can't sleep," she complained. "Even if I could get comfortable, which I can't, he starts kicking the second I lie down."
"I'm sorry, Gin. That sounds awful."
"You have no idea."
No, but she might have if things had gone differently. She'd never been more grateful that she'd chosen to end her pregnancy, cringing as she imagined herself in Ginny's position.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
Ginny shook her head. "Nothing that would help."
Over the past week, Hermione had gotten used to Ginny's grumbling, though she seemed more irritable than usual today. She leaned against the wall, scowling as she pressed a hand to her lower back.
"Everything hurts. Did I mention that?"
"Want me to call your mum? She might have some ideas…"
"No!" Ginny said, nearly knocking the container of Floo powder out of her hand. "I can't deal with her right now, going on and on about what I should be doing. Just because it worked with Bill, or Charlie… bloody hell, I don't care! I just want…"
She trailed off on a grunt, staggering as she gripped Hermione's arm. Hermione eased her into a chair, eyes widening as she spotted the puddle at their feet.
"Harry? Harry!"
12 hours later, Ginny was lying in bed at St. Mungo's, newborn infant cradled in her arms. She looked tired but jubilant, beaming up at Harry as he hovered beside them. Of course, Molly was also present, dabbing at her eyes with a well-worn handkerchief.
"I'm sorry, Miss," the healer said as she came back into the room. "Visiting hours are over."
Hermione didn't mind. She'd already been looking for an excuse to leave, understanding that the new parents needed their privacy. Molly wasn't quite so cooperative, though the healer managed to hustle her out, reminding her that she could return first thing in the morning.
"Congratulations," Hermione said, giving Harry a hug. She smoothed the damp hair back from Ginny's forehead, kissing the baby's tiny cheek before she stepped out into the hallway.
"You're welcome to stay with us tonight," Molly said. "We've got plenty of room."
For the past week, she'd been sleeping at Harry's, doing whatever she could to help out as they awaited the birth. She'd loved spending time with her friends, even more so when Ron stopped by. The three of them had chatted late into the night, smiling and laughing as they relived past adventures.
Still, she couldn't pretend their friendship hadn't changed. Not with a mother and her newborn baby resting upstairs, Ron busy with his work as an Auror not to mention a new girlfriend. They each had their own lives, their own responsibilities and relationships…
"I've already made plans, but thank you," she told Molly. "Congratulations on your new grandson."
"Wow," Hermione said as she walked through the door at Spinner's End. "You've been busy."
Severus had indeed been productive, his books and other possessions packed in a collection of shrunken boxes. He'd managed to stash them in a single trunk, shelves bare aside from a layer of dust. He'd even gotten rid of most of the furniture, leaving nothing but the couch, kitchen table, and a bed to sleep in.
Of course, this was the last night he intended to do so. After tomorrow, this place would no longer be his.
"What will you do with it?"
"Remove the charms," he said. "Leave it to the squatters."
"So we're going back to Salem?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"You. If you'd prefer to live elsewhere…"
She shook her head. "I love Massachusetts. That's where our friends are, your job, hopefully my job as soon as I can find one. I love the ocean, the way it smells, the color of the leaves when they change in the fall. Then there's the house, and…"
"I get the point," he interrupted. "Salem it is, then."
He felt the same way, pleased by her enthusiasm. Really, it was surprising how much he already missed it, far more attached to that quaint little town than he'd ever been to Spinner's End.
Spinner's End… or Hogwarts, for that matter. Both of those places belonged to a different life, one he was content to put behind him.
"So," Hermione said. "When do we leave?"
"For Massachusetts?"
She nodded.
"As soon as we return from our holiday."
"Holiday? Severus, what…"
He pulled a cheap plastic keychain out of his pocket, placing it on the kitchen table.
"What's that?"
"It's a Portkey," he said. "To Australia."
Author's Note: I'd like to apologize for the delay. I meant to finish this story almost a year ago, but the epilogue proved to be more challenging than I expected. I ended up putting too much pressure on myself, resulting in a terrible case of writer's block.
Thankfully, I got past that. I started over from scratch, letting Severus and Hermione lead me wherever they wanted to go. They took me to some unexpected places, but hey, I'm not complaining. :)
I hope you enjoy reading this epilogue as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks so much for sticking with this story!
PS – I recently relaunched Always Snape (alwayssnape dot com), a community for Snape fans featuring fanfiction, artwork, discussion, meta, contests, challenges, and so much more. Please check it out and sign up for an account if you feel so inclined. We've got lots of fun stuff planned for the near future, all of which will be deliciously Snapecentric. ;)
Thanks again for all your support. I really do appreciate it!