Routine

This is just a little something I did for a WIKTT challenge. We had 20 minutes to do a full ficlet. I thought I might try my hand at it. This is all there is, it's a one shot and complete.

Summary: Hermione muses over one Severus Snape one late night

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She was sitting there, watching him. He never strayed from his habits. He was very orderly, never once doing anything out of the order he'd done it in for, apparently, years. Change was something he not only hated, but rarely even tolerated anymore.

She supposed it gave him a sense of not only normalcy but also of control. Everything else about the world, even his life was always the plaything of someone else. In school Severus Snape had been the main target for the Marauders. As a young man he'd been Voldemort's puppet and now his services went to the Order and he was used at it's discretion, though anymore it was rare as the war was long over.

It was what had first got her to noticing him, that he seemed to allow others to control his life. It was odd that she, Hermione Granger, would notice him in anyway other than as her professor or her tormentor. No, she'd finally seen Severus Snape in a new light during the summer between her fifth and sixth year.

It had been purely platonic and the interest in his past or his true character was only of the mild quality. It was as simple as reading a slightly interesting magazine column of how birth order affected your personality. Nothing too definite but still of interest.

But then, something had changed. It had been gradual and unnoticeable. She had begun to take in the things he did. The way he sat, straight-backed and full of aristocratic gibberish, she supposed, had been her first notice. The next was his eyes, sharp and dark, never betraying anything that might be the truth.

By the time she was at the end of her seventh year, she would have been the first to admit she was fully smitten with Severus Snape. Everything he did interested her; no longer was she mildly curious, but she'd taken him fully into her heart with a fool's thoughts of how he'd change for her and how she'd be the one to change him and they'd ride off into the sunset on his snow white stallion. She smiled almost ruefully and could not help but shake her head.

It had been her mother, after learning of her crush by a chance encounter with Snape while they'd been shopping, that had explained something that had helped Hermione let go of the image that he was forever raised on a pedestal. She'd said that if you could not love a man as we was and you thought of changing him, then you had no business loving him.

It was then she'd taken stock of his flaws, after, of course, getting over her initial indignation at her mother. She'd discovered he was as annoying as she'd remembered him. But none of that had mattered. Not really.

It especially had not mattered after the final battle at Hogwarts when they'd been standing side by side, having just witnessed the great victory for the light, he'd grabbed her up and kissed her. Quite passionately.

"Hermione?" He broke her thoughts.

She smiled at him. "Yes?"

"Shouldn't you be in bed. It's late and you have a defense class to teach in the morning."

She loved when he did that. He tried to sound as though he didn't like her company this late, but his eyes betrayed him. He was worried for her health. Late nights were never healthy.

She sighed and stood up slowly, the great bulging of her belly hindering any grace from being apart of her movements. "I should be, but I was waiting on you."

"Go on, I'll be in there in a moment."

The only thing stopping him from going immediately with her anymore was that he always checked on their children.

It had been ten years since the final battle and they had three children, the fourth on the way. The boys, Matthew and Alexander, were nine and seven. Eladia, their daughter, was three.

She had to admit that she loved his routine. They would eat as a family, he would read to the children, send them off to bed, grade papers, send her off to bed, check on the children, and the go to bed himself.

No, Severus Snape hated change and adored his routine. His day was not to be messed with by anyone.