"I bought two jars of honey from Mr Mulpepper's Apothecary. I saw that yours was finishing. The wizard says it's tangerine-infused, something about the bees feeding only on citruses. I think it's a great combination. Perhaps, it might soothe your throat," Emilia said, placing the honey jars neatly into the top cabinet.

"Thank you," Severus murmured.

"No worries. I bought clothes for myself and other essentials. Can't be wearing yours all the time," Emilia joked.

"Are my clothes beneath you?"

"Oh!" Emilia exclaimed, turning around to face Severus. She was worried that he had misinterpreted her words. "I wasn't implying that. Your clothes are perfectly comfortable. Look at this cloak here, it smells wonderful and it's so soft. Goodness, I didn't mean to –"

A part of Severus found a flustered Emilia entirely endearing, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide in panic as she tried to explain. A lopsided grin formed on his mouth. "I know what you meant, Emilia."

Emilia's frown deepened before her features relaxed when she realised he was joking. A breathy chuckle escaped her. "Oh, goodness, you were teasing me. I thought I offended you! Merlin!" She laughed.

Severus found it difficult to tear his gaze away from a carefree Emilia. Her rambunctious laughter suited her and if he was being honest, it made her all the more charming.

"Was there something on my face?"

Severus blinked owlishly. "What?"

Emilia touched her cheek. "Is there dirt? I didn't check in the mirror after I left Azkaban. I had soot all over my clothes when I travelled via the Floo network."

Severus cleared his throat, realising that he was caught staring. It was better to lie. "Ah yes. There's a little there on your right… Higher. There."

Emilia tutted softly, seeing the slight smirk on the wizard's lips. "It's still there, isn't it? I'm checking the mirror."

"What? No!" Severus blurted, rushing to her.

He flexed his fingers.

"Here, let me just –"

Severus tucked an errant curl behind her ear before his hand cupped her face. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, making it seem that he was trying to wipe off the grime.

"There's quite a bit," he murmured, lingering on for a tad longer than necessary. His touch grew softer, caressing her cheek. Without meaning to, his gaze travelled to her lips that were raw and peeling, evident that she had chewed on them when nervous.

"Does it hurt?" Severus whispered.

"Hmm?"

His fingers skimmed down to her face, thumb tapping on the broken, chapped lower lip. "Here. Does it hurt?"

Emilia was surprised by the tenderness in his voice. She nodded. "It stings, just a little."

Severus tutted softly. "Why didn't you say something?"

Thinking that he was annoyed, Emilia tried to explain. "I…"

"I have some healing salve," he interjected gently, "let me find it. It might help."

"Thank you."

"You must tell me if you're hurt. In any way," Severus added.

A small smile graced her lips. An unexpected warmth tugged at her heart. "I will. Thank you."

Severus shook his head. "It's my duty," he said before turning the corner to the bedroom.

Emilia unpacked several more items that she found Severus' home to be lacking, especially those that could instantly soothe his throat. Two packets of honey-infused lozenges and a jar filled with a cooling paste could help with the unstoppable itchiness coming from his scars.

Just then, Oats swooped into the kitchen, catching Emilia by surprise. She gasped softly, clutching at her heart before chuckling.

"Hello, there," she cooed, reaching carefully to pet the owl. It seemed friendly enough, accepting Emilia's touch.

"Oh, you brought us something, hmm?" Emilia murmured, seeing a rolled-up parchment tied to its talons.

She untied the little string and placed the parchment aside, thinking it must have been addressed to Severus.

"Thank you, love."

Oats hooted softly, acknowledging the witch's praise before preening its feathers.

"I found it," Severus announced, holding up a tiny jar.

"Oh, great. Thank you, love," Emilia replied instinctively, folding away the paper bags.

Severus froze. "What?"

Emilia looked up from her task. Her brows were arched up. "Hmm?"

The pink in his cheeks became obvious. "You said…"

"What did I say?"

Severus shook his head, thinking he must have heard it wrongly. "Nothing. I have the balm."

Emilia snorted quietly. "And you have a letter. Your adorable owl delivered it," she chuckled when Oats made a tiny noise of protest.

"She prefers it if you commend on her skills rather than her looks," Severus remarked.

"Ah, point taken."

"Do you want – should I apply the salve for you?" Severus asked awkwardly.

Emilia could sense his unease. "If you wish."

"It's not what I want that matters here, Emilia," Severus said gently, knowing autonomy meant to those who suffered abuse.

Emilia breathed out softly, she nodded, "I would like it."

Severus stepped in front of her. Fingers curled underneath her chin, tipping it up. He winced, seeing the bleeding fissure.

"Does this happen often?"

Emilia did not know. It had been a habit she picked up for the longest time, accustomed to the stinging pain when there were other more prominent aches and throbs in her body, brought upon by the beatings.

"I'm not too sure," she replied in a murmur, a tad self-conscious.

Severus could see her withdrawing by the way her back hunched and her fingers grasping the fabric of her clothes.

"It's alright," Severus assured, "this will help."

He took a small amount of the salve to the tip of his finger and brushed lightly across her lips. The effect was immediate for the cracks healed, and the pink in her lips resurfaced and smoothened.

Severus experimentally ran his index finger along the seams of her lips, tipping his dark eyes up to meet with hers. He had unknowingly lowered his head.

"All better?"

Emilia could smell him. The slightest hint of bergamot had a soothing effect, although it might be in the healing balm he provided. And she could see him. The spidery veins on his cheeks, like a gossamer of blues and greens against his pale skin. The curvature of his thin lips with a prominent Cupid's bow. She knew if she tilted her head further, their lips would meet.

"Emilia?"

Her eyes snapped up. "Hmm?"

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Yes, thank you. I feel better."

Severus withdrew, handing her the jar.

"Keep this. Apply when needed," he instructed before picking up the parchment and scanning its contents.

"What is it?" Emilia asked before she winced. "Sorry, I shouldn't pry."

Severus turned to Emilia. "The minister has replied."

Emilia nodded, trepidation crawled up her back.

"Well?"

"We are to be married," Severus broke the news, seeing her eyes brighten. "Under the condition that you're sent to St Mungo's for a monthly check-up to ensure that your condition improves," he added, his eyes tracking for any reaction.

The tension in her body dissipated instantly.

Emilia walked right up to Severus and threw her arms around his neck, drawing him into an embrace. Her nose pressed the scars on his neck, sighing softly.

Severus relented. He rested his chin atop her head and closed his eyes. Her warmth enveloped him once more and he thought how foolish it was to ever leave in the first place.

"I take it that means yes?" He murmured.

"Yes."


"The marriage papers are sent to us," Severus gestured to the cream-coloured parchment with Ministry's insignia embossed at the top right. There were two dotted lines at the bottom with their respective names.

"All we have to do is sign here?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a quill?"

"Accio quill."

A raven feathered quill zoomed past the living hall into Severus' waiting hand. He withheld it.

"Emilia, are you completely certain?"

"Are you?" She shot back with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Severus cleared his throat. "Well, no one could be absolutely certain. My choice of words was incorrect. What I meant –"

"I know what you mean, Severus," Emilia chuckled. She plucked the quill from his grasp and signed above the dotted line.

"Here."

If Severus was surprised by the expediency of her signature, he said nothing. He spared a brief glance at her and Emilia could see a ghost of a smile before it disappeared just as quickly. He took the quill and countersigned.

Almost immediately, Emilia and Severus felt a thin gold band wound around their ring fingers, adjusting to their sizes. Then, the parchment came alive. It rolled up on its own accord, taking the shape of an envelope with red lips formed on the sealing flap. "On behalf of the British Ministry of Magic, congratulations on your marriage, Mr and Mrs Snape!" It screeched.

"The rings on your fingers are non-removable, as the binding agreement is irrevocable. Do not forget to consummate your marriage within a week, or else a ministry official would come by to check. Have a pleasant night!"

The letter disappeared with a loud pop, showering the newlyweds with customary golden sparkles and glitter.

Severus grumbled under his breath, sweeping away the strands of gold from his shoulders. "Do they suppose we clean this up?"

"Oh, come now, Severus. It's a wedding celebration," Emilia justified with a smirk.

Severus scoffed. "Ah yes, what a momentous event to celebrate a marriage born from oppressive laws by the very government that was supposed to be an improvement over Voldemort's reign. What a bloody farce," he uttered in a low tone, irritated by the frolics of the ministry, not noticing the palpable hurt on his new wife's countenance.

"I suppose it is out of place. I'll clear it up," Emilia mumbled.

Severus realised the stupidity of his callous words. He curled his fingers around her wrist. "I didn't mean to say that. Our marriage isn't a farce. The ministry is being an absolute buffoon, reminding us of the most inane of things such as the consummation of marriage. It is clear that the marriage law is intended for one purpose only – the bearing of children, a future generation for the government."

Emilia nodded, easing her hand away. "I understand. Could we – we were given seven days, could we wait?"

Severus softened, seeing the apprehension set in her features.

"Yes, certainly."

"Thank you. I'll take the other room."

Before Severus could utter a word of protest, Emilia had quickly exited the kitchen. No doubt wanting to get away from him after he spoke out of turn on the day of their wedding. He had ruined the moment.

He ran a hand down his face. Why on earth did he mention children for that matter, aware of her medical circumstance?

"Fuck."


Emilia changed out into her pyjamas, newly purchased from Twilfitt and Tattings with several other robes, cloaks and underthings.

She sighed, looking at the plain bedroom that had a single-sized bed, with a matching set of dressers and a nightstand. A threadbare carpet lined the floor. She was perfectly fine living in that room, the one complaint was probably how unbearably cold the room became when night fell and how her husband found their marriage a travesty.

Emilia sat on her bed, wanting to cry but found no tears flowing. Instead, she admired the gold band found on her ring finger, absentmindedly running a finger along the cold metal before stopping at the underside. She turned her hand, palm facing her to check on the inscription.

No. 1848

Emilia snorted incredulously, realising the number meant the marriages recorded into the Ministry's registrar.

"God, this is really awful," she mumbled in a resigned tone.

Just like that she was married to a wizard she barely knew and had no way of separating if things were to go south. Severus was a cantankerous wizard, make no mistake about that. But his frustrations and irritation were never directed at her. There was a hidden affection imbued within him that sprang into action the moment she was in distress of any kind, physical or emotional.

A soft knock came from the door.

"Emilia?"

Emilia covered herself with a dressing robe, lest her pyjamas were viewed as too revealing.

"Come in, please."

Severus' head peeked in between the gap. He cleared his throat. "I shouldn't have implied that the marriage was absurd. I didn't –"

"Severus," Emilia interrupted sharply. "I understand that. It's fine, really. You don't have to apologise. If it's alright with you, I would like to rest. It was a trying day for me… for us," she amended.

Severus could see the tears pooling in her eyes, fighting hard to keep herself from crying. She turned away then, wiping her falling tears.

He went and crouched in front of her. Because that's what a husband does. Though, as far as he could recall, his father never did that for his mother. And Severus would be damned if he allowed a repeat of that in this godforsaken house.

"Emilia," he murmured, seeing her upset twinged a small part of his heart.

A shuddering breath escaped her lips. Tears streaked her face. "I don't usually cry this much. I promise," Emilia muttered, slightly miffed that her bravado was shattered in mere moments.

"I know," Severus tried to reassure but faltered just as quickly. "Well, I don't really know. But, I'll not be the husband that lets his wife cry to bed just several minutes after the start of our marriage."

"You didn't mean to," Emilia tried to protest.

"No, I didn't. I was frustrated but that's not a good enough reason to speak mindlessly," he interjected.

"I detested that the Ministry kept track of our marriage. The rings are used to keep tabs on us, on our conjugal relationship, on our intimacy just so they could chart a graph back in some pervert's office cubicle. The law is a mockery of everything that I've fought for against the Dark, the painful agony of toeing the line between good and evil. This is a miscarriage of justice. But, I'll not allow this marriage to fail, or my wife to suffer, just because I cannot push aside my anger for the law," Severus finished sincerely.

"Your anger is justified, Severus," Emilia agreed, finding it equally terrible that their marriage was urged by an external force.

"I checked the ring," she raised her hand, showing off the glint of gold. "Apparently, we are the 1848th couple to be married."

"A nice number," Severus quipped.

Emilia smiled, tucking a fallen strand of Severus' hair behind his ear. "All we can do now is make the best of this marriage."

Severus tried to ignore what her action meant. He nodded. "Would you be more comfortable in our bed?"

Emilia's brows shot up. "Our?"

"If you're amenable to it."

A wider smile greeted him.

"Of course! I'm not trying to be rude, Severus. But this room gets awfully cold in the early hours of the morning," Emilia tried to explain, justifying her decision.

"I know. It's my room as a child," he murmured, with an expression unlike Emilia had ever seen before.

It was melancholy, she was certain.

"Oh, I see."

Severus cleared his throat. "Well, shall we?"


"You sleep on the right?" Emilia asked.

"Yes."

"Do you sleep shirtless?"

"I… yes. Does that bother you? I could put on a nightshirt," Severus suggested.

Emilia shook her head. "It's alright. We should be comfortable."

Severus nodded. "I suppose so."

Emilia shrugged off her dressing robe, revealing a skimpy burgundy nightdress with the hem ending mid-thigh. A v-shape neckline with lace detailing showed her cleavage. She rubbed her arm, a little nervous about how Severus would perceive her. She wanted to impress her husband, at least that was her intention when she went shopping for new clothes.

Severus cleared his throat, clearly taken aback by how scantily dressed she was. He ran a hand through his greasy hair, feeling inadequate to the ravishing woman before him.

"I should take a shower," he mumbled, tearing his gaze away. He busied himself to find his towel, actively avoiding her eyes.

"Did you not like it?" Emilia asked hesitantly, anxious that she had made another blunder.

"I could change if you want."

Confusion marred Severus' brows. He turned to face her. "You wore that for… for me?"

Emilia nodded. She had a tight-lipped smile. "I thought maybe you would like it. Find it pretty," she murmured. Her cheeks turned red.

Severus was bewildered. He had a wife, a beautiful woman who would put on a dress just for him. Was this what marriages were all about?

"You look nice, Emilia," Severus confessed, walking towards her.

He had to admit – red was a captivating colour on her, especially the natural blush on her cheeks. It highlighted her honeyed eyes and her fair skin.

Severus stood in front of her, adjusting the thin strap that had twisted.

Emilia's brows were knitted. "Truly?"

Severus breathed out softly, not understanding how Emilia could not see herself or why she would seek his approval of all people.

He nodded. "Truly."

She closed her eyes in momentary relief.

"Thank you."

He placed a gentle hand on her upper arm. "You don't have to do this, wife. I'm perfectly fine with any clothes you deem comfortable."

"These are comfortable," Emilia answered, taking a step closer to him. She tipped her eyes up, darting her tongue out to wet her lips.

Severus tried to appear unfazed. He raised a brow. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she told him as if he needed any convincing to keep the nightwear.

"Then it is your choice," Severus declared softly as the scent of tangerine pervaded his senses. He must have imagined the fragrance on her for it was impossible to linger that long on her skin. He turned on his heel and headed straight to the bathroom, needing a hurricane of cold water to douse his damning desire.

Severus took care of himself in the shower; sure movements of his hand enclosed around his cock and with a muffled grunt, he relieved himself. He thought it was best to do so in the privacy of the bathroom lest it would appear extremely inappropriate if Emilia were to spot evidence of his erection.


Severus re-entered the bedroom dressed in comfortable pyjama trousers to find that Emilia had fallen asleep with a pillow propping up against the headboard.

She had waited for him.

He spotted two empty vials on her bedside table, assuming it must have been Dreamless Sleep potion and made a quick mental note to assist her in weaning off.

Quietly, Severus shuffled to the right side of the bed and slid under the bed covers with little movement as possible to not disturb her sleep. He tugged at the blanket to cover her, seeing that the thin silk she wore could not possibly be warm enough.

Emilia stirred in her sleep, looking around in a daze before her eyes found Severus. A lazy smile formed on her lips.

"Oh, you're back."

"Hush," Severus murmured, "go back to sleep."

He adjusted the pillow to lay flat before gently pushing her to lie on her back.

"Alright?" He asked.

"Mm," Emilia mumbled, closing her eyes.

Once assured she was comfortable, Severus rested back on his pillow. A soft whisper and darkness subsumed the bedroom.

Severus kept absolutely silent, listening to Emilia's even breathing as she fell back into her slumber. He never had anyone sleeping beside him before. Any dalliances with women were only for one night, though he remembered a short stint with a woman who had unmistakable features as Lily, down to the auburn hair. That was roughly nineteen years ago, shortly after her death. Since then, any company he had with women had always been for the night, never staying over once the deed was done.

To have Emilia, his wife, by his side, sleeping was oddly blissful. She had come to his home in a bit of a mess, asking him to marry her.

He of all people!

Severus could nearly laugh at the notion that he, the greasy bat of the dungeons, could find someone, much less a wife. Though, that view had been distorted when the Daily Prophet took the chance to paint him as an almost martyr with The Harry Potter swearing to bear witness to his honourability should he be put to trial.

Alas, the marriage law was upon them. Perhaps, loneliness had caught on after the years of being alone. Now that Severus was finally free, there was no covert spying to be done or the fear that he might die in the next Death Eater meeting. And being physically ill for the past two years did not help matters, only with mother figures – that meant well he supposed – came down to check on him. Otherwise, no one would give two flying fucks about him. He had managed to distance himself from everyone else.

Till Emilia came along.

She was demonstrative, and unafraid to show her affection to a stranger. She hugged him and kissed him on his cheek. She made him breakfast and bought him jars of honey just because she took notice that it was finishing.

For Merlin's sake, she wore a négligée for him.

"Severus," Emilia whispered, shifting closer to him. Her warm hand had come up to his bare chest.

"Hmm?"

Severus had subconsciously left a bigger space between them yet she had wormed her way in. Not that he minded.

"I was wondering if we could spend some time together?" She asked softly.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Could you show me more of Cokeworth?"

"There's nothing much, if I'm being honest," Severus replied.

"Somewhere you enjoyed as a child?" Emilia pressed, her fingers trailing down his breastbone, combing through his chest hair.

Severus covered her hand with his, stopping her movements that were enough to nearly undo him.

"Why?" He questioned, suspiciously. He never liked it when his childhood was mentioned.

"Well, I want to get to know you, dear husband," she murmured, playfulness belying her tone.

"As I've said, there's nothing to show," he affirmed.

Emilia sighed, detecting the coldness in his voice. "I'm sorry. I've said too much again."

She began to pull away, easing her hand but Severus held on. "There's a local bakery somewhere down the street where my mum would buy a single slice of treacle tart, specifically with two dollops of clotted cream and topped with lemon zest. I insisted on the cream, it had to be two or I couldn't eat the tart," he let out a low chuckle when the memory came to him rather unexpectedly.

"We couldn't afford much. Those treats only come every once in several months after mum would scrimp and save. We would share the slice. The both of us, mum and I, would try to feed the other more, either would make up excuses that they were full so the other could have their fill," Severus finished, hit with the sudden realisation that he had never shared with anyone of his life with his mother, not even to Lily.

Emilia pressed the softest kiss on his shoulder. "Shall we have treacle tart for breakfast tomorrow?"

Severus nodded, feeling a lump in his throat, unable to speak when she had curled her arm around his waist and burrowed her face close to him.

"Good night, Severus."


Thank you for reading. Reviews are much appreciated.