Chapter 8

As Snape awoke, he thought that somehow during his nap his right arm had been removed, because he certainly could no longer feel it. His eyes still closed, he hoped that when he opened them that the day had not all been a dream. He could hear tranquil snores coming from his immobile arm. Thinking briefly that it was strange for an appendage that was asleep actually to snore, he opened his eyes to see the peaceful face of Hermione napping with him. Unexpected tears welled in his eyes. It had all been real and she loved him. Seeing her sleeping face brought everything into sharp focus. He would no longer be waking up alone. That thought was all it took to bring tears of bliss. Blinking back the emotion, he chided himself. He was Severus Snape--he did not cry. However, he did allow himself the thought that she was worth it.

He lifted his head enough to see the clock on the side table and was startled to see that it was already after eight o'clock. Seeing the time reminded him that they had not eaten since lunch and brought on a fierce hunger. He pulled his arm from under her head and massaged it. Trying not to think about how many hours his arm had gone without circulation, he turned to Hermione. She was so beautiful and even more so when she slept. He could certainly get used to this.

"Love," he whispered shaking her softly. "Hermione, it is time for dinner."

"Oh Severus," she mumbled fuzzily.

Smiling, he tried again a little louder, "Wake up love. You need to eat."

"I like it when you do that," she murmured.

Laughing, he attempted one more time shaking a little harder. "Hermione wake up."

Suddenly her eyes opened and she sat straight up, almost colliding with his head. "Oh my," she cleared her throat and rubbed her eyes. "I just had the most vivid dream." Her voice was still heavy with sleep.

"I heard," he smirked.

"What? Was I talking?" she asked repressing a yawn.

"A little," he said before he kissed her softly. "Was I good?"

She blushed terribly and then hopped down from the bed without answering. She was almost to the bathroom door before she turned and grinning said, "Very."

He combed his hair and attempted to straighten his bed-wrinkled clothes while he waited for her. Minutes later, she was ready and they left for the Great Hall. They were almost there when Hermione spoke.

"I haven't been in there in ages."

"Nor have I," he replied as they reached the two giant doors.

He pushed them open and she entered in front of him. There were still many students finishing their dinner and almost every head turned in their direction. Just realizing that they were still dressed in their muggle clothes, he understood some of the avid stares. Albus was at the head table and he waved them up to the front.

When they reached the table, Albus asked, "Did you have a good nap?"

"How is it that you know everything?" Snape asked dryly.

"It doesn't take divination to see the pillow marks on your face," was his answer.

Hermione took the seat next to Albus and Snape sat next to her. As they filled their plates, he noticed that some of the students were still staring in their direction.

"Do I have something on my face?" Hermione asked.

Albus chuckled, "I announced at dinner that you two would be taking over potions classes shortly. Most of the students are familiar with you both because of your involvement in the war."

Dinner passed quickly with light conversation from Albus. He told them a story about his brother and another run in with a goat. This time the goat retaliated and Aberforth had to spend a few days in the infirmary. Snape wondered if the man would ever learn.

As they finished their coffee, Albus excused himself and Hermione and Snape discussed their plans for their upcoming classes. She was going to make a great teacher. She had already managed to begin planning lessons and was asking his opinion about some of her ideas. Yes, he could certainly get used to this.

When the hall was almost empty, he asked graciously, "Dear lady, would you fancy a stroll before bed?"

She giggled, "That would be lovely."

They wandered leisurely down to the edge of the lake, but decided instead to walk into Hogsmeade for a drink. The night was clear and cool. Hermione was only wearing a light tee so he gave her his over shirt. He was pleased to see her draw it around herself, but he could not help chuckle at how ridiculous she looked. It was at least three sizes too large.

They held hands all along the way. Though he was a grown man, he felt like a seventh year walking along the path with his girlfriend. They stopped occasionally and kissed in the moonlight. Her body was so amazing and knowing that he was able to touch did not make their journey any quicker. Once, he actually pinned her against a tree along the road and was then positive he was acting like a young boy. She wasn't helping matters either. Pinching, groping and teasing him brazenly in ways that made even him blush, it took quite longer than it should have to reach Hogsmeade.

Hermione selected The Three Broomsticks and Snape was glad to see the pub was almost completely empty. He ordered their drinks while she chose their seats. He was going to have a vodka screwdriver and she had unexpectedly requested a whiskey sour. Drinks in hand, he found her toward the back in a dimly lit booth.

Setting the drinks down he took the opposite seat and said, "We could sit outside if you prefer it this dark."

She gave an airy laugh. "I've always liked the ambiance of a bar and for some reason I always pick the darkest place to sit. Wait." She stood and walked to the counter, returning with three tall black candles. With a wave of her wand, she lit them and sat back down. "There, that's better."

The conversation started out simple enough. They discussed how they planned to work together and she expressed trepidation about her abilities to teach. Snape tried to reassure her by saying that once she got through her first class she would realize that there was nothing to it.

They discussed some of her old classmates. Snape was astonished to hear that Longbottom had opened his own greenhouse procuring plants for household and medicinal use. However, he was glad that Longbottom's profession would keep him a safe distance from a cauldron.

By the time they had reached the second round of drinks, Hermione was getting a little tipsy. Her cheeks lightly flushed, she was giggling much more than before. They had started talking about the other teachers and she confessed her fear of Madam Hooch. Snape told her that she was not alone in the fear and that he would rather spend the day hiding in a broom closet than speak with the woman.

Feeling a bit light headed himself, he somehow told her about the cat he had brought to school with him as a boy. She had quite the laugh when he told her the cats name had been Cookie. He tried to explain that his mother had named it and that the cat had already learned the name so he couldn't change it, but she was laughing so hard that he began to laugh himself and then he forgot what he was trying to say in the first place. When he returned with the third round, she asked him what he thought was a very strange question.

"Why are you drinking vodka?"

He smirked, "Because I like vodka and for some reason I no longer have a taste for scotch."

"But why, it's so bitter." She giggled again.

"You are drinking a whiskey sour. Who are you to brand my vodka bitter?"

"Good point." She smiled, "Hey, have you thought anymore about that wandless magic thing?"

He laughed at her abrupt change of subject. "No, to be honest, not really."

"You just have to think about it for it to happen, right?" she asked.

"Yes, I suppose so." He added, "But I am not sure what the limits are."

"Yeah, but then why did you wave your hand?" She giggled as she asked the question.

Laughing himself, he tried to answer, "I am really not sure. I guess all those years of wand waving have made it a habit."

She positively roared with laughter. When she began to settle, Snape had to ask a question he had been burning to. "Where did you learn to punch like that?"

Again, she laughed hilariously. "I don't know, I guess I was just really pissed off."

Snape was laughing terribly now, "Remind me not to do that."

"You could probably piss me off as much as you want." She was struggling to stop laughing, "You're a hell of a lot bigger than he is."

"Are you saying that I am fat?" he asked in jest.

"No," she stifled her giggles. "He's scrawny, all bone and no muscle whereas you," she let her giggles work their way into a naughty grin. "I mean, look at your last girlfriend. She's gorgeous. I can't imagine what she looked like years ago."

Snape just snorted, "She is conceited and that is all that makes others see her as attractive. You have the kind of honest beauty that women like her only wish they had."

She smiled at him warmly and he loved it. Recalling another significant question, he asked, "Those spells you used the other night, where did you learn those?"

Her giggles stopped for just a moment before she took another sip of her drink. "Ugh, the ice is melting. I've tasted dishwater better than that."

Snape chuckled, "I would wager that dishwater tasting story is fascinating, but you do not have to change the subject if you wish not to discuss it."

She shook her head and quietly replied, "I don't mind." She paused for a moment, her eyes unfocused. "You know how it is. When you do a lot of research, you learn a few things. Those were some I've stumbled on along the way."

"You invented them?" he asked in amazement.

"Yeah, but I never meant to use them." Her eyes wandered to the window across the room.

He understood what she meant. "You do realize there is a difference between murder and self-preservation."

"I know," she said faintly. "I don't feel bad about it. I think that's the most troubling part of it all." She met his eyes with hers and asked calmly, "Why don't I feel worse for taking his life?"

"Because you know why you took it," he answered easily.

She nodded her comprehension. A hush fell over them for just a few moments before he said with a smirk, "That was deep. Would you like to chat about the meaning of life now?"

Much to his relief, her giggles resumed. Checking the clock above the bar, he could not believe it was already after eleven. "We should get back to the castle before they send out a search party."

"All right," she sighed. They stood together, but she stumbled back against him. "Thank god you were standing there." She was giggling again.

He chuckled. "Do you need me to carry you?"

"Oh hell, you could just levitate me." She started the giggling all over again.

Once she stood for a moment, she was steady on her feet and they left arm in arm. They weren't three steps out the door when Snape heard someone yell from over his shoulder. Once more that day, he heard the unexpected voice of Harry Potter.

> > > > > > > > > >

"Hermione?" Harry called.

"Oh now what," she said turning her head.

He looked wound up, "What are you doing out this late? It's not safe."

He had just attacked her lover that morning and he was telling her what was safe. "I'm perfectly out of harm's way with Severus so go to hell." She looked up at Snape and giggled, "That's the second time I've said that to someone today."

Harry had closed the gap between them and was only a few steps away. In a calm voice, he said, "Let me walk you up to the castle."

"Us," Hermione stated sharply. "There are two of us."

"Let me walk you both up," he corrected in an even tone. "But I'm not holding his hand."

Snape chuckled, "Yes, please don't."

Deciding it wasn't worth the squabble, she said quietly, "Fine."

They walked most of the way in silence with Hermione in the middle. Every time she glanced at Snape, he would squeeze her hand and every time she looked at Harry, he would raise an eyebrow.

A few yards from the castle steps, she said sarcastically, "That was pleasant. At least it won't take long to write up the transcript of the conversation."

Both Snape and Harry laughed. Hearing Harry laugh was like finding a favorite book that she'd forgotten she loved. At the foot of the steps, Snape squeezed her hand again and walked up ahead, evidently to give her a moment to speak with Harry.

His eyes scanning the ground, Harry said, "I'm sorry Hermione. I don't expect you to forgive me, but you should know I am sorry, for everything."

His words were sincere and she was thrilled to hear them. "I know Harry. Thank you."

"Ron said that--" Harry started, but she interrupted.

"If he is sorry then fine, but everything else I can do without." She took a step closer to Harry. "You know, we've been friends a lot longer than not and I would much rather we stick with the friends part."

Harry looked up with barefaced relief. "Thank you Hermione."

She hugged him, feeling how skinny he was and hoping that Mrs. Weasley was feeding him well. "I better get to bed," she said as she pulled away.

"Yeah," Harry glanced up meaningfully at Snape on the steps. "He's good to you?"

She nodded, "Very."

He met her eyes and said, "Then I'm happy for you. If he's good enough for you then he's good enough for me. I really just want you to be happy."

"Thank you." She laughed, "You know I would have been a lot harder on you if I hadn't been drinking."

He nodded as he smiled.

"Good." She smiled back, "Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight." He waved to Snape, who returned it, before he started back toward the village.

She was still watching him walk away when Snape arrived at her side. "I am proud of him," he said genuinely. "That took courage."

"Yeah, it did."

> > > > > > > > > >

Still in wonder of their happenstance meeting with Potter, Snape guided Hermione through the halls and down into the dungeons until they were home. The fact that it was now her home as well did not escape him. He was going to have fun getting used to this.

She told him along the way that she had forgiven Potter. Her friendship turned out to be stronger than her grudge. Snape wasn't sure if she would so easily forgive Weasley. His sins had been much greater and had cut much deeper than either Weasley or Potter would ever truly realize.

Exhausted by the time they reached home, he allowed her to prepare for bed while he lazed. Thinking back on the conversation with Albus, he wondered what it was that Galena had told them. He wasn't used to being so uninformed. Comforted that he would know in the morning, he took off his shirt and waited for Hermione to finish.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she was showered and a little sobered. She smelled beautifully of honeysuckle and had on her fluffy white bathrobe.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Much," she said as she padded to the bed. "The bathroom is all yours."

He chuckled, "Not anymore."

He kissed her softly before going to take his own shower. The scalding water was relaxing, helping to wash away the harried day. He could still hardly believe that Hermione was right then lying in his bed. The thought less than a week ago would have been preposterous. Wondering if he should forgo his usual sleeping ritual, he decided that it was best to get those kinds of things out in the open early.

Finished with his shower, he crept into the now dark bedroom, hoping not to wake her if she was already asleep. She was, turned on her side away from him as he climbed into bed. Hoping that his preference to sleep nude would not discomfit her, he cuddled up alongside her. Her soft, warm skin chaffed pleasantly against his. It was immediately apparent that she too was naked and lucky she was already asleep.

He drank in the touch, the rounded curves of her body, the gentle sweet smell of her hair, the smooth skin of her back against his chest. All these senses converged as he closed his eyes for a sleep that promised many lovely dreams.

> > > > > > > > > >

When Hermione awoke, she felt a fingertip tracing a line from her forehead down across her jaw and over her lips. She opened her eyes drowsily to see the fuzzy outline of Snape standing in the doorway to the sitting room, far enough away that he could not have been touching her.

"Good morning love," he said quietly.

"Good morning," she said, touching her face.

He smiled a little wider and said innocently, "I was practicing. Did I wake you?"

She smirked as she wiped her eyes. When she reopened them, she saw that he was already dressed in his heavy black robes. It was strange to see him look exactly like the professor she remembered. As she lay naked in bed, her mind still thick from sleep, she felt for a moment as if she may have been in the middle of a very pleasant dream where she was still the student and he the teacher.

She stretched lazily as she said, "You're lucky I didn't know what you looked like under there when I was a seventh year."

When she finished stretching, he had already crossed to the bed and kissed her gently, holding out a steaming cup of coffee. "Would you like to take your coffee in bed this morning?"

She sat up against the headboard holding the top sheet to her chest. Smiling, she took the cup and sipped eagerly. The bold taste woke her tired mind and the warmth shook her senses. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Five thirty," he answered with a smile.

"What?" she thought it must be later. "Do you always wake this early?" she asked before taking another sip.

His eyes glinted, "Only when I have your luscious body pressed against me."

She could feel the heat rise in her face at his words and the satisfied smile crossing her lips. "Are you meeting Albus for breakfast?" she asked.

"Yes, I must be leaving soon." He leaned in and kissed her temple. "But I wanted to see you awake before I left."

She hoped that he would always stay like this, so thoughtful and considerate, but she knew that someday she would not be such a novelty to him. However, she could always hope. "If you'd like I can get dressed and join you."

"No," he said kindly. "You lie in this morning. I will fill you in on the situation when I return. I should not be more than an hour."

Glad to stay in the warmed bed, she said, "Then I'll see you in a little while."

After putting down her cup, she held out her arms to kiss him goodbye. His lips met hers yieldingly, his hands playing on her waist. She gasped as he slowly pulled down the sheet she had covering her chest. The satin grazed her nipples, sending shockwaves through her freshly roused body. The sensation was fantastic as he barely brushed the stiff tip of her breast with his fingertips. She sent her hand to the front of his robes and trailed her fingers from his chest to where his outer robe opened at the waist. Pushing her hand inside, she found him stiff and kneaded gently, taking pleasure in his husky moan and nimble clutch at her breast.

He drew away, holding his bottom lip in his teeth. "I must go." He paused, eyeing her amorously, "Or I will never leave."

She smirked, "Have fun with Albus."

He merely chuckled as he walked to the door, glancing back with that familiar flash in his eye. "I will return within the hour."

"I'll be waiting," she tormented him by raising a hand to the breast he had just fondled.

With a husky groan, he vanished from the doorway and she heard the thump of the door closing behind him as he left. She cherished the affect she had on him, almost as much as the power he had over her. It surprised even herself that she was so comfortable naked around him. He made her feel attractive in a way she had never known and she had certainly never slept completely naked before. Remembering from the first morning in her apartment, she assumed he preferred to sleep nude and she found that terribly alluring. Laying back into the feathery pillows, she drank her coffee in total relaxation.

She thought that was the best sleep she ever had. Snape gave her an all-encompassing sense of protection she'd never felt. Her conversation at the bar with Snape, making up with Harry, and striking Ron--though she felt a stitch of guilt about hitting him--had succeeded in releasing most of her pent up angst. All that was left to make her world complete was the capture of those two ghastly men so that she could get on with her life.

When she saw Snape in his robes, it reminded her how much she'd admired him as a professor. It hadn't been until their private lessons together that she truly began to appreciate the wisdom and knowledge that lay beneath his normally snarling exterior. After a few months, he'd been almost kind to her on several occasions, asking nonchalantly about her other classes or making her a cup of tea without asking. Those lessons were her favorite memories of her final year at Hogwarts and she never expressed to anyone how they made her feel. In truth, she had trouble even admitting to herself that she took great solace in knowing that Snape was on their side.

Her anxiety as the war led up to the final battle was severe. He was so very intelligent and powerful and somehow, she knew he would protect her. She knew he would protect them all even if no one else appreciated it. In her opinion that was true bravery, fighting for what you believe in without seeking recognition.

Harry and Ron would go on and on about how unbearable spending time with Snape must have been since they didn't have to have him as a professor. She never told them how much she enjoyed the lessons and she most certainly was not about to tell them that she sometimes fantasized about him late at night when she couldn't sleep.

She was suddenly flooded with a remarkable realization when she thought of those memories. Those were memories she hadn't visited in years and had nearly forgotten about. On those numerous sleepless nights, she would imagine him holding her in his arms and telling her assertively that they were going to win and soon. The Snape in her vision would declare that he would see to it that she would be all right. The thought that a Snape like that actually existed had never occurred to her. As it turned out, he had done just that.

Now she lay naked in their bed in their rooms at Hogwarts after being in his arms through the night. This was another set of impossible circumstances that she never thought would happen. She grinned as she savored her coffee, envisioning a supreme being somewhere smiling down upon her. It seemed that dreams did sometimes come true.

> > > > > > > > > >

As Snape entered the Great Hall, he tried fruitlessly to repress the memory of her touching herself as he left. That was truly too much to endure while being watched by the few gawking students that were already out that early in the morning. He took pleasure in glaring at a few of them and watching them recoil in fear. He had to admit he missed that part.

Albus was already waiting for him at the staff table. "Good Morning Severus." He raised an eyebrow, "Sleep well?"

He smirked at his friend and said as he took the seat next to him, "That is a ridiculous question."

As he poured his coffee, Albus began relating the story. "Galena told us that Fenrir has been hiding out in an abandoned warehouse in Edinburgh. She said he was spotted by a few of her associates and they are the kind of associates that are disinclined to relay the information to the Ministry."

Snape nodded perceptively as Albus continued, "A team of Aurors were staking out the facility last night and informed me that he is in fact there, but we're hoping that Lucius will try to contact him before they must apprehend Fenrir."

"Why not just get it out of the way?" Snape asked.

"Lucius has many more resources than Fenrir," he explained. "If we allow him to flee without exhausting every opportunity, we are doing a disservice to ourselves."

"True," Snape replied. "Are there any other leads?"

Albus nodded, "Galena also mentioned that someone has been inquiring as to your whereabouts, both yours and Hermione's. I am of the opinion that the person looking for you in Lucius." He paused while he refilled his cup, "It is quite possible that Lucius will seek out Fenrir to help him with any plan he might have to try and avenge his son's death."

Snape was not surprised. He had seen Lucius commit more atrocious crimes than any other Death Eater. Lucius was exceptionally vicious, even when compared to Voldemort, except that Lucius was lazy. As his late son always had, if he had a plan he wished to carry out, he would seek out someone else to do the grunt work while he merely rejoiced in the kill.

A wave of nausea hit him as he reexamining those memories. He struggled to focus, but the image of Hermione kept taking the place of the innocents tortured and murdered by Lucius' blood-covered hands, murders that Snape bore witness.

"So what is the plan?" he asked, trying to steal his mind from those thoughts.

Albus sighed deeply, "All wedo is wait. We wait for them to make a mistake."

Still shaken by his worrisome thoughts, Snape said, "I refuse to allow them to terrorize us for the rest of our lives." He looked pointedly at Albus, "If I have to, I will seek them out myself."

Albus just shook his head slowly, "Severus, please don't do anything reckless. The Aurors have Fenrir heavily guarded so he is certainly not a threat. Let them do their jobs."

"I have seen them do their jobs Albus," he said, suddenly irritated. "I know how incompetent they can be. I will not risk Hermione to their ineptitude."

Albus' face became somber, "I understand, I really do." His smile returned a bit, "Though I'm not as worried as you appear to be. I know you are there to look after her."

Heartened by his friend's words, he sighed, "I hope I do not fail her." Snape knew that statement was multifaceted.

Albus nodded, "I trust that you won't."

Albus abruptly changed the subject. He began telling the tale of Slughorn's response to his impending dismissal. Barely listening, Snape's thoughts trailed back to Lucius and what he had done to those he sought to punish in the past. He could not allow that to happen. He would die before it would.

Snape knew full well that Hermione could take care of herself. The spells she had used on Draco and Lucius had not been Dark, but they were close. The witch or wizard wielding them had to have exceptional power and control. What he feared was history repeating itself, her getting hit while protecting him, except this time with something much worse than a stunner. If he were too slow or she taken off guard, he would lose her all over again.

As Albus prattled on about a new muggle sweet shop in Diagon Alley, his thoughts went back to the night Voldemort had been defeated. With a chill in his bones, he thought of Lucius skulking through his rooms. With another chill, he suddenly remembered the last thought he had before he drank the spiked scotch.

The school year was nearly over and Hermione was soon to graduate. He had allowed himself the fleeting fantasy of trying to court her and steal her away from that Weasley boy. The events that followed had all but expunged the memory. It was staggering to realize that he had loved her much longer than he had even permitted himself to know.

Now that he had her, he resolved that he would not allow waste such as Lucius to take her away. Lucius, he was beyond nothing when it came to getting what he wanted. The realization hit Snape with a jolt of abject terror. Lucius had been in his room that night, all those many years ago, and in his rage at being cursed, Snape had never thought to change the wards.