Warning

This story is not suitable for readers under the age of sixteen. It contains sexual content, including some non-consensual, and may offend some readers. If this subject is offensive to you, please do not read this story.

Chapter 39 – Hermione's Birthday

On the morning of her 'birthday', Hermione woke in response to a soft tickling at her ear. She smiled and looked up into the dark eyes that were watching her face.

"Good morning, Severus," she whispered.

He was blowing a gentle breath into her ear, and smiling down at her, lovingly. "Good morning, my darling. And Happy Birthday!" A gentle kiss was planted on her lips, and she smiled sleepily up at her lover, who continued. "I am sorry, but you will have to wait until this evening for your birthday present," he told her. "For now you will have to be content with me!"

Hermione smiled. "That sounds perfect," she whispered. "You're all I could possibly want!"

- - -

Malfoy and his cronies were ahead of Hermione, Ron and Harry, on their way down from breakfast to Potions that morning. The three had watched the Slytherin Quidditch practices over the weekend, and it seemed that Malfoy agreed with their assessment that Malcolm Baddock was an improvement on the playing of Findlay. Naturally, the Slytherin, like Harry and Ron, was in the dark as to the reasons for the switch.

"Findlay was good, at the start of the season," Malfoy was saying, "but he wasn't doing well. Whatever Cole says about Baddock, I think it's a change for the better." He glanced around, and saw the three Gryffindors behind him. "What are you staring at, Mudblood?" he demanded angrily.

"Nothing much," Hermione smiled, then turned her back on him to talk to her friends.

Malfoy was still muttering about Hermione's remark as they entered the classroom.

"Settle down," Snape growled as they entered. "We have a lot to get through this lesson, so lets make a start, quickly." The class took out quills and parchment at his instruction, and began taking notes as he explained the intricacies of perception-altering potions. There was a lot of detail to learn, and Snape talked fast, expecting them to keep up and having no tolerance for those who could not. Hermione would have to help Neville to catch up, later.

It was only after comprehensive note-taking that the class proceeded to the practical aspect of the lesson, giving Hermione, Ron and Harry chance to talk.

"I was working on my Charms project," Ron told them, "and I found out something that might help us with the Marauder's Map." His voice was low, to avoid being overheard by the teacher or by any of the other students. The last thing they wanted was for someone like Malfoy to find out what they were doing. "It's really difficult to change a spell that's already been done on an object, but there are ways you can do it. Flitwick said he could lend me some books, and he's giving them to me after class on Thursday." This was good news. They had figured out what they needed to do, and they knew which spells to use. All they needed was information on how to apply them, and it sounded like Ron might have the answer to this. Things were looking very promising.

It was Harry who changed the subject to that of Hermione's parents. "What did they send you for your birthday?" he asked.

Hermione smiled, resignedly. "Nothing," she told them. "My mum said she'd send me a birthday present on my birthday, and not before!"

"I suppose it would be difficult to get the muggle world to accept anything except what your birth certificate says," said Harry, "but your parents ... "

" ... are muggles!" shrugged Hermione. "My dad doesn't say much about it, but I know that it bothers him, but my mum always says exactly what she likes!"

At the other side of the classroom, Snape was busy shouting at Neville Longbottom, who had just added far too many wolf hairs to his mixture, making it boil over the edge of the cauldron. The Potions Master had taken to moving Neville away from Hermione on occasion, in the hope that he would learn to fend for himself during Potions lessons, but he looked like he was beginning to regret that failing strategy. "How long is it until you leave Hogwarts, Longbottom?" Snape snarled at the quaking student.

"A year and a half, sir," Neville replied, miserably. Snape looked just as disappointed at this thought as Neville. He began to turn away, but turned back as an afterthought. "You do not have any brothers or sisters, do you?" he asked, apprehensively. Neville shook his head, and Snape muttered under his breath, but fully intending the unfortunate Gryffindor to hear, "Well, that's something!"

Hermione gave him a disapproving glare as she caught his eye, and he turned his back on her with a frown.

"I'm surprised that your mum and dad would be shocked by anything after meeting him," smirked Ron, watching the teacher out of the corner of his eye, and causing Hermione to laugh aloud.

A growl came from the front of the dungeon classroom. "Ms. Granger, I suggest that you concentrate on your work, or you will find yourself spending the evening here, in detention." Forcing her face into an expression of anger instead of laughter, she turned her attention back to her work, not noticing the look of discomfort and raised eyebrows that passed between her friends.

A little while later, while Snape's attention was focused on praising Pansy Parkinson's work, Harry leaned over to Hermione. "So, what's Snape got you for your birthday?" he asked her quietly.

Hermione smiled at the thought of his 'present' that morning, but somehow, she did not think Harry would want to hear about that. "I don't know," she said, "He won't tell me until tonight."

Ron gave a snort. "Then I suppose you'll find out in detention!" As the three fell into silent giggles, Snape carefully pretended not to notice.

- - -

At the appointed hour, Hermione stepped into Severus' room. It was a room she loved, with its rich furnishings, and high bookshelves, but tonight it had taken on an extra warmth. A large fire burned in the grate, bathing the room in a soft glow, mingling with the flicker of the many candles that were placed all around. The Potions Master was seated by the fire, a book open in his lap. He stood as she entered, putting down the book and stepping forward to take both Hermione's hands in his.

"You look beautiful, Hermione," he told her softly as he reached down to kiss her. For a long moment, they stood just looking at each other. Snape wore his customary black, but instead of contrasting the glow of the fire, it complemented it. Instead of seeming cold, as many thought, to Hermione, the blackness - not only of his robes, but of his hair and eyes - was warm and comforting. It was a part of him, which meant a part of her, and she could not imagine him any other way.

"I love you," she whispered, barely audibly, but she knew that her eyes told him that far more clearly than her words could. His own eyes replied and he kissed her again.

He smiled. "Hungry?" She nodded. "Then, let's eat." The table was elegantly set, with more candles, and Severus held her chair out for her before moving to sit down himself.

It was a wonderful meal. Both food and company were perfect, and Hermione could not have pictured a better or more romantic birthday dinner. She had learned that Severus was an expert at conjuring up exquisite meals, with or without magic, At Haven, she had enjoyed watching him work in his kitchen, as he had prepared ingredients for meals in just the same way that he prepared those for his potions. "The art of cookery," he had told her, "is, in many ways, simply a branch of potion-making, with a very specific purpose." She had smiled as he had added subtle blends of spices to the softly simmering pots, and breathed the vapors in deeply, commenting on the ability of the delicate aromas to ensnare the senses. In the case of her birthday dinner, however, he had been forced to use magic to prepare each course.

"I have, on occasions, used the school's kitchens to prepare meals," he said, "but the house-elves are rather inquisitive, and hate not to be permitted to prepare the meal for me." He shook his head at the thought. "I had to threaten to poison them to make them leave me alone the last time I cooked down there." Hermione was accustomed to his jibes about the house-elves, and ignored him, refusing to take the bait.

They ate leisurely, and, as they finished the meal and sat quietly in each other's company, Hermione watched the candle-light reflected in her lover's eyes, and considered just how happy she was. This was perfection.

With the meal cleared away, they sat snuggling by the fire in silence for a while, before Severus reached into his robes and drew out a box wrapped in silvery paper. "Happy Birthday, my darling," he murmured, handing her the gift. Hermione sat upright to open it, finding within the wrapping, a black tin, tightly sealed. Opening it revealed a soft powder, and she looked inquiringly at him.

"An ingredient?" she asked, but he shook his head.

"Floo Powder."

She looked back into the box, then into his eyes. "You mean, you've had my room ... ?

Severus nodded. "It's not on the regular network - that would have to go through the ministry," he smiled, "and it's not on the school network, because student rooms can't be added ... for obvious reasons!" He gestured towards his own fire. "This is the only fire to which it is connected. It is just for us."

Hermione could hardly believe it. This was wonderful. She had thought about trying to get her room on the floo network, but knew that there were too many obstacles. It was the perfect gift. His was the only fireplace she wanted to be able to reach, so the limitations were ideal. Carefully sealing the lid, she threw her arms around him and hugged him. "this is perfect, Severus. Thank you!" Hermione's mind raced with the possibilities as they held each other. Not having to dodge Peeves each morning would be a big relief, and she would be able to come and go as she pleased. It would also mean that Severus could visit her room. The head of Slytherin did not have access to the Gryffindor tower. He had never seen inside it.

They kissed tenderly, enjoying the thought of the freedom that this would give them both. Severus drew her close, and she rested her head on his chest as they sat, comfortable, in front of the fire. After a while, Severus spoke again. He sounded hesitant, as though unsure of her reaction. Surely he knew that there was nothing he could not say to her, by now?

"Hermione," he paused. "I have been thinking about your parents," Hermione waited, unsure of how to respond to this. "and about why they dislike me so much."

'Dislike' was hardly the word, thought Hermione, wryly - at least where her mother was concerned - but she said nothing and Severus continued. "I know that they do not like the fact that I am a wizard, and there is nothing I can do about that. But I believe that it is also the age gap that bothers them, and the fact that I am your teacher."

Hermione considered this. "There's nothing you can do about the age gap, either, but you won't be my teacher after this year."

"True", he conceded, "but there is more to it than that. They undoubtedly assume that, because of these things, I do not really love you. A man almost their age, having a relationship with their little girl, twenty years younger ... ! I can understand their reaction. They must think that I am just using you, and will move on to another student when I get bored with you.

Hermione sat up and turned to look at him. "So, what can we do about that?" she asked.

His eyes drilled into hers. "I want to prove to them - and you - that this is real and that I truly do love you," he said, seriously. He paused, watching her face, before continuing. "Marry me, Hermione."

Author's Note

I remember writing this chapter of the story, about four years ago. I had it all planned out, but without the proposal. Then, as I got to the end, somehow Severus took over, and I found myself writing this! Sev's idea - not mine!