Two: Grandchildren
A/N I do not own or claim to own the world of Harry Potter.
"Severus…" she whispered.
"Yes, dear…" he murmured, his voice silk against her ear.
"The children will be here in an hour… "
"Shall I play greasy git, or grandfather?" he asked, a note of teasing in his voice.
With a smile, Hermione ran her hands through her hair, white but still bushy, and replied "Your days of greasy git ended when you lost your hair, or have you Obliviated that fact from your memory?" she teased, kissing the tip of his nose.
He laughed, and they were quiet for a moment, both watching the rise of the sun over the hills.
"You're still a know-it-all, aren't you, Mrs. Snape?" he murmured, and summoned a cup of tea for each of them. "It's hard to believe that my little girl has gone and reproduced in such a manner as to rival the Weasleys." he mused.
"Severus, she is a Weasley. She married Fred's son, and they have been happily married for going on fifteen years, or have you also Obliviated that as well?" Pulchara's marriage to Michael Weasley had taken a bit of bravery on their daughter's part, and a good chunk of Severus' pride as well. She now had eight children and a blossoming career in Charms, much to her parent's relief and pleasure.
"Enough, love. I know… she did do well, didn't she?" his face, lined with years of fighting, had not softened over the years, although his soul had. Severus' face was now lit in a grin, and Hermione, looking at him, was startled to realize that he became more attractive, at least to her, as the years went by.
Tea finished, the two dressed and stood in front of their home, watching with smiles as all of their family appeared by portkey on the lawn. One red-haired middle-aged man, one tall, black and bushy-haired woman, and eight children – some red-headed, some black, some brown – tumbling around the lawn like a litter of puppies. Soon Severus Snape, former head of Slytherin, former Death Eater and double agent, former terror of Hogwarts, was swamped in children shouting "Grandfather! Look!" Sticky fingers offered him prizes, and frogs – some chocolate, some very much alive – soon filled the pockets of his robes. With a chuckle, he rubbed heads and gave hugs as smiling black eyes met smiling brown. Severus Snape had found his destiny and his reward.