AN: ok, first off., thank you to the ppl who reviewed, I really do appreciate it. Second, this takes place 5 days after the events of the last chapter. Now, there are scenes of a slight sexual nature in this. I personally don't think it's anything really, but just to be safe, I toned it down a bit, but you can find the original (if you are of age) at Ashwinder, under the same pen name. ok, that's about it, let me know what you think.
Breathe. Just breathe. It's all going to be fine. Think of nice calm things, yes, calm things. Right, the Draught of the Living Dead, yes, that's fairly calm. I bet I could make it strong enough to effectively dispose of every male creature that has ever dared to lay a hand (or a mouth) on Hermione. No, not the point. No Hermione based thoughts. Right, calm things. Lists, yes, they can be fairly dull. Ok, list the ingredients for a Polyjuice potion. Fluxwood, knotgrass, lacewing flies, powdered horn of a Bicorn, shredded boomslang skin…no luck. Fine, think of all the different salves can be used to decrease stress, even better, think of all the hexes that can be used to inflict pain. Perfect, then I can just start thinking about who I'd like to use them on and then I'll probably start hatching imaginary plans involving all the people I want to hex and their delightful future of intense pain and missing limbs. That is not thinking calmly. Ok, calm, pay attention. A classroom full of high quality dunderheads with a potentially dangerous potion. Now is not the time for daydreams, especially when you are dreaming of mass murder. Focus, focus, damn it Snape, focus! I suppose I could just dismiss the class now, hand out a class wide zero for their incomplete incompetence. Second year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Perfect, I could probably even manage to make some of them cry. Go on, a well aimed barb or two and we'll have a satisfactory amount of tears, they're inexperienced, they won't know what hit them. Forget it, just dismiss them, they're not learning anything anyway. Stupid children, interrupting my misery with their pathetic attempts at an education. Dismiss them, you know you want to. Oh yes, then I can be completely free to wallow in my considerable misery in complete isolation and free from distractions. Oh, how I look forward to another fun filled afternoon of depression slumps, highlighted by moments of pure, untainted rage and sponsored by several healthy servings of strangely comforting Firewhisky. Then I'll consume the wrong potion while searching for the one that will make me adequately sober, having the slightly comical effect of making me much worse off than when I began with varying types of nausea to make it interesting, effectively ensuring that I shall miss another dinner in the Great Hall. Then, in all probability I will suffer through a visit from the Headmaster, concerned about my well being, stumble off to bed without planning the lessons for the next lot of dunderheads, get up after a very disturbed and less than enjoyable sleep, consume the nauseating hangover cure and stalk off to have a tasteless cup of coffee in the place of food for breakfast, glaring at anyone who dares to smile. Joy.
I cannot believe that it has been five whole excruciatingly long days since I last saw Hermione. She has not come to see me, hasn't owled, probably hasn't even thought of me. Well, it's likely that she has finally come to her senses about the situation between us. I told her I loved her, well, I let her know that I loved her. Now, she ignores me, again. No contact whatsoever. No 'hello', no 'how are you', no 'thank you for the lovely evening', no 'thankyou for the very thoughtful and well appreciated note', no 'lets forget the past and live in pleasing amounts of sin together for ever and ever'. Nothing. No contact. That's it, I'm going to see her. Dismiss the dunderheads, send your fake apologies to Albus and get gone. Wait, you need a plan. No, no plan, no waiting. I'm done waiting. It's time, now or never type of deal. Ok, first things first, dispose of the witnesses. I don't need the students to see me losing my mind, there's still another half an hour until the end of class, too bad, they don't want it, I don't want it, everybody wins. Sure, that makes perfect sense. So, send the students away with a suitable amount of snark. Yes, then I'm going to visit Hermione, will she even be home? The middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week, she might be working. Not really an issue, I'm still going. Right, get rid of the students, visit Hermione, explain everything, get her to allow me back into her life. A knock at the door. A knock at the fucking door. Damn, I don't want a visitor. I glance in irritation at the door, anticipating an earlier than usual sympathy session with Albus. Just turn away, look busy and important, sound extremely annoyed and maybe he'll go away. Sure, that'll happen.
"Enter."
The door creaks open. My door creaks? How long has my door creaked? I must remember to fix that, I can't abide by a creaky door. Albus shuffles in, takes his time. Sure, I have all the time in the world for pointless visits from an insufferably slow geriatric. Why can't people appreciate the need for overly dramatic entrances, with sweeping robes and intimidation accompanied by an exit that is so quick that it's fairly close to being rude? Why must they waste my time with these ridiculously long visits? Stupid Headmaster, why is he here, I don't want to see him. And why in Merlin's name is he not speaking? I can't even turn around to bellow at the students for speaking while they should be fully occupied in destroying my classroom and failing my subject as there seems to be an unnatural silence in the room. What's their problem? Have they never seen Albus pain-in-the-arse-thorn-in-my-side-but-can't-get-rid-of-him-as-I-owe-him-more-than-my-life-and-sort-of-like-the-interfering-old-badger Dumbledore? Stupid children! Stupid, stupid, stupid children!
"Hello, Professor."
Hermione. Did she just call me Professor? That can't be good. Turn around, no, don't turn around. Breathe, just breathe. What is she doing here? Right, I whine internally for days about why she hasn't come to see me and as soon as she does I question her motives. Oh Gods, act natural. Answer her. Go on, turn around and answer her. Now. You are currently in front of a class full of students and the love of your miserable life, now is not a great time to have a break down. Oh yes, in future I will be much more careful when planning my mental episodes. Imbecile. Right, shuffle parchments, search the desk. Look busy. Why aren't you looking at her? Neutral expression, no emotion, ignore the students. Don't think about the last time she was here. Good, now, graceful and nonchalant. No, do not slip while turning. Nice recovery. Gods, she is magnificent. Maintain eye contact, don't look down, don't look down. Don't. Look. Down.
"Herm…Miss Granger."
"I'm sorry to bother you sir, but I was wondering if I might have a word with you?"
"Class dismissed. I will store what you have made and you will continue from where you were tomorrow. Understood?"
Some fairly enthusiastic agreements sound through the dungeon while they scramble to get out. I wave my wand in the general direction of the benches and their work is bottled and stored. I move to sit behind my desk and try to look occupied. I can't look at her just yet, why did she call me sir? She closes the door and I look up in time to see her sitting on one of the benches. That is not good, I can see way too much of her body to concentrate properly. She crosses her legs and looks me in the eye. Oh dear, why is she doing this to me? On second thought, maybe this won't be so bad after all.
"Severus, I came to discuss something with you and I would like you to take me seriously."
"Well, Miss Granger, I will make every attempt to take your babblings seriously."
"Good, then let me start by saying that if you don't stop calling me Miss Granger I'll hex you into oblivion, and let me conclude by saying that I'm done waiting."
"Done waiting for what?"
"You. I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me. Do you want me?"
I think about not answering. I've worked so hard on ignoring my feelings and it could all be over right now, just stay silent. Stay silent. Stay silent. Oh bugger this.
"Yes."
"Do you want to be with me?"
"Yes."
"Do you love me?"
"Oh Gods, yes!"
"Then why did you leave me?"
"I told you…"
"No, you didn't. You never told me. You left and never told me why."
"I wrote it to you."
"What, that it's better this way? What's better what way?"
"You are better this way, without me."
"Oh Gods, you are an idiot. You thought that I would be better off without you? Are you crazy?"
"I wanted what was best for you. You deserved much more than what I had to offer, romance, picnics, silky hair, beautiful children with your brains and whatever you find appealing about the random inbred twit I pictured you with."
"Fucking nobility, don't try to be noble. I can't stand nobility in a man. None of this crap about you giving me up for my own good, no, don't interrupt. I don't want some random inbred twit, Severus, if I wanted that I'd be dating Goyle."
A disturbing image of Hermione with Goyle sprung unwanted into my brain. Some of those painful hexes came with it. She slides off the bench and walks slowly up to me, undoing the clasp holding her robe closed as she goes. It falls to the floor and she kicks her shoes off next to it. She sits on my desk directly in front of me placing her feet on the arm rests of my chair. She's wearing the black skirt that comes to just above her knees and my old shirt. She always wore the skirt because she knew I loved it. I've missed that skirt. That skirt is riding up nicely, giving me a fine view if I dared to drop my eyes. Maintain eye contact, don't look down, don't look down. Don't. Look. Down.
"Hermione, please, please understand. I just wanted you to be happy."
"Severus, please, please understand. I would be happiest with you."
She moves forward until she is straddling my hips and her skirt is somewhere near her navel. Oh dear, her sucking on my ear lobe is not doing wonders for my concentration.
"Severus?" she purrs into my ear. I forgot she could do that. Foolish man.
"Hermione."
"Don't leave me again."
"I still can't give you what you deserve."
"Hmmm, well, give me you, and we'll call it even."
"Me?"
"Yes, let me keep you and I won't need anything else."
"Hermione-"
"Well, if you'd prefer, I could always go and find myself a random inbred twit to help me out. You don't mind do you? I mean, you're not doing anything about it. I'm practically begging for you to shag me silly right here and now and you're busy coming up with reasons why you don't want me. Do you really want me to find someone else? Someone more willing?"
"Hermione."
"Come now, Severus, I'm sure you could be happy for me. Happy because I'll be unhappily fucking some random inbred twit. Just like you wanted for me. Pretending to scream in pleasure and pretending that's he's actually capable of pleasuring me half as well as you are. But then, that's true happiness. I'll be his. Then, you can be happy for me."
She's serious. She's actually serious. She'd be willing to be unhappy to piss me off. She's doing a fantastic job. The fact that she's currently grinding her hips into my lap is definitely not helping my concentration. Don't think about her with another man, don't think about it. Don't think about her writhing in pleasure and covered in sweat, rolling around naked in some boy's bedroom. I bet he'd be a Gryffindor. Bastard. She's staring at me, she must want an answer.
"I guess that's it then. I'm sorry you feel this way, Severus. I hope you'll be very happy."
Hold on, this is not going to happen. She moves to get up and I hold her down. She looks at me with shock and more than a little desire in her eyes. I kiss her once, desperately, hungrily, before breaking away, breathing heavily. I lock myself in her gaze and get slowly to my feet, holding her legs around my waist. I locate my wand and mutter quick locking and silencing charms, I really don't want a visitor now. I push Hermione onto my desk and scatter the contents in the process. I lean over until my mouth is right next to her right ear.
"Mine." the word comes out on the end of a fairly possessive growl. I move my mouth to her neck and proceed to nip and suck not so lightly at it until I know there will be a mark left for at least another day. Her eyes flutter closed and she sucks in a breath.
"Yours."
I move my (gentle) assault to her breasts and nudge the shirt open on the way.
"Severus?"
"Hmmm?"
"If you ever leave me like that again, I'll hex your balls off."
"Hermione, if I ever leave you like that again, I'll hex them off myself."
"Excellent, as it is, you have a great deal to make up for, it may take days, weeks even before I can fully forgive you."
"Always happy to oblige. Oh, and Hermione?"
"Hmmm?"
"If you ever decide to have a sexual tryst with some random inbred twit, I'll hex his balls off."
"Understood."
Two months later.
Breathe. Just breathe. Everything is going to be just fine. She's going to reject you, laugh at the mere suggestion and send you on your way. Oh Gods, that is going to hurt. Everything is not going to be fine. Ok, nothing is going to happen if you don't at least go in there. Come on, you can at least do that. Just knock on her door and she'll let you in and you'll realise that everything will be fine. Go on then, knock on the door. Knock. On. The. Fucking. Door. Ok, good, step one of the plan is now complete. It swings open and Hermione is standing there half dressed with fly away hair. Gods, I love this woman.
"Hey, sorry but I got home late from work and there was this whole thing with some Muggles and some silencing and engorgement charms. It was, well, it was quite a situation. But, it's over now and all is well. Come on in, dinner's almost ready and I'm already about halfway through getting completely clothed. I shouldn't take too long."
I nod but say nothing and follow her inside. She heads in the direction of the bathroom and I sit in the living room, failing in my attempt to stay calm. I hear her moving about and cursing quietly when she bumped into something. She emerges moments later and moves to sit next to me. Her hair is still hanging around her shoulders but a little more tamed. I watch her talk about her day and the way her brow furrows when she talks about an evil troll like woman she works with. I scowl slightly when she talks about Potter and that Weasley boy, but calm down when she describes how thoroughly bored she was spending time with them lately. Ha! Take that Potter, better than you are! My inner triumph is interrupted somewhat when Hermione gets up to go to the kitchen, saying something about burning food. I slowly follow her and sit at the kitchen table while she serves me some sort of pasta dish I have a feeling that I like. I listen as she talks and try to look like there is absolutely nothing on my mind. She finishes cleaning up our dishes and turns to me, kissing me hesitantly as if trying to gauge my reaction.
"What is wrong, Severus? Because frankly, the last time you were behaving like this you left me and I'm really not in the mood for hexing your balls off this evening."
"I had it all planned."
"You had all what planned?" she sounds a little worried, this is not going well. Oh, well done genius, you made it sound like you had it planned to murder her with some sort of blunt Muggle tool and dump her mangled corpse on her parents' doorstep. Smooth.
"I was going to be nice, well I was going to try. I was going to lead up to it, trying not to give you a reason to hex my balls off, whether or not you happened to feel like doing it. I wanted you to understand my, well, my reasons. But, it's not going to work out, is it?"
"Severus, don't do this to me. Can't things just stay the way they are now?"
"Hermione, I have to get this out, say it to your face and not in a note. Please, hear what I have to say."
"Of course." she sounds so miserable. Gods, why do I do this to women? Well, I've started now, I can't exactly back out. She moves herself to the living room and lowers herself onto the couch, I follow her and sit on the table in front of her. I look into her eyes and read with disturbing clarity the anguish there, I can't handle the pain radiating from her and drop my eyes to my hands. Breathe. Just breathe.
"Like I said, I had it all planned. I hoped to make you a little more open to the idea than you seem to be. But now, it seems that there is no delaying the inevitable. So, let us just get this over and done with, so we can both move on with our lives."
"Of course." she almost chokes on the words. Again with the tears. Surely she doesn't dislike me this much. I just have to get it over with. Don't pay attention to the fact that she's trembling and try to ignore the fact that she's probably plotting your death.
"Look, Hermione. I'm sorry that this probably isn't what you want to hear, especially from me."
"Severus, what-"
"No please, I just have to say it."
I move to my knees in front of her and look up into her confused eyes, still overly bright from her tears.
"I really wanted this to go at least semi-smoothly. I've planned it for weeks, talked to that insufferable Weasley girl, read up on Muggle customs, the way the whole process is done, they really are bizarre creatures, and tried to mimic them. But I can't. I can't ever be a Muggle and I can't ever be a handsome, Quidditch obsessed, starry eyed, silky haired rich boy, intent on giving you everything you ever dreamed of. I can't promise that I will never argue with you or that I'll always let you have your own way. I can't promise that I can conform to the wishes of your family or that I will ever be able to offer anything but disdain to your friends. I may never be more than a snarky, uncivilised git, haunting the Hogwarts dungeons and loathing the outside world with a fiery passion. That is who I am. It cannot be changed, I feel I will need to apologise for a great many things in my life, but for this, I will not apologise. Instead, I will ask you if you would accept me as I am enough to become my wife."
"Severus, what? Are you asking me-"
"Hermione, will you marry me?"
I pull a ring that I braved Muggle London to find from among the folds of my robe and offer it to her. She looks at it, then at me. I hate how that came out, I sounded like a love sick adolescent, this is not going well. Gods, four little words are still ruining me. She's still not looking at me. Oh Gods, the scathing rejection, the ridicule, the inevitable banishment, here it all comes. Breathe. Just breathe. She's covering her face with her hands, is that a good thing? Oh Gods, more crying. Well, that's that then. I smother a sigh and suppress tears, Severus Snape does not cry. Yes, just keep telling yourself that. Perfect, now she's laughing at me, that's much better.
"Yes."
Oh, what? Did she just say 'yes'? No, it can't be right. She can't have said…I'd already planned my whole night where I get unfathomably drunk on my strangely comforting Firewhisky and consoling myself with the fact that I at least got to be a git to the Gryffindors the next day.
"You mean-"
"Yes, Severus, the answer is yes, I would love to marry you."
I'm aware that I'm grinning like an idiot and my fingers are trembling while I slide the ring onto her finger but honestly, I'm not too upset about that fact. I briefly admire the look of the ring, MY ring, on her finger before raising my mouth to hers and kissing her as deeply as I can manage while I'm having trouble breathing. We break apart and stare at each other. She smiles, a genuine smile and I feel myself grinning in response.
"I'm so glad I don't have to hex your balls off!"
"As am I, my dear, as am I."
"I do have a question though, you really talked to Ginny?"
"That I did, and went to a Muggle store she recommended in London. In fact, I do believe that I have to send my compliments to Miss Weasley, she has rather good taste."
"I have another question, you said that you thought I probably wouldn't want to hear this, especially from you, what did you mean?"
"I'm aware of my appearance, Hermione. I'm not exactly anyone's dream man."
"What's wrong with you?"
"I have greasy hair."
"Better than mine, at least yours is manageable."
"I have a big nose."
"Adds character to your face."
"Uh, thin lips."
"All the better to smirk with, you know you wouldn't like it if you had lips you couldn't decently smirk with."
"Pale skin."
"As opposed to me?"
"I am not a nice man."
"Eh, you're all right."
"Hermione, I am well aware of what I am. I know that you shouldn't love me, you shouldn't even like me. I'm an ugly git, hated, despised. Why do you even allow yourself to be seen with me?"
"You think I think you're ugly?"
"Yes."
She moves her face towards mine and brings her hand up, cupping my cheek. Her hand traces the lines of my face, my eyebrows, my nose, my ears, and finally my lips. She pulls my face even closer to hers and places feather light kisses all over my face. The acceptance and love she is showing me is almost too much for me to bear, Severus Snape does not cry. Yes, repeat that to yourself. She stills the motion of her hands and pulls away from my face until she is looking directly in my eyes.
"I don't believe you. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever known. Don't ever be ashamed of who you are, Severus. I love all of you, and there is nothing in this world that can change that. No beauty, no style, no amount of money, nothing."
"I notice you're not denying that I'm a git."
"Well, that is fairly common knowledge. Nothing to be ashamed of."
"Understood."
I settle into the couch and wait for her to join me. She wraps herself around my body and I bury my face in her hair. Gods, I love this woman. Her and her bushy hair, know-it-all attitude and annoying friends. Oh Gods, her friends. And Albus, Minerva, oh great, Lupin, she'll want him there. I'll have to meet her family. Will it be a wizarding ceremony or will I have to attempt some sort of Muggle ritual? I heard that it involves a lot of kneeling and talking. No exchange of blood, no bond of magic, nothing a normal person would decently expect. Oh Gods, they'd probably start pressuring us about children. That wouldn't be so bad, tiny people with her hair and my eyes and our combined intellect. They would be so beautiful. No, give it time. Remember, she's the one that has to have them, blah, blah, blah. I wonder what we would name them. No, children are not for a long time, months, maybe years. Hermione, bearing my children. Oh Gods. Breathe. Just breathe.
AN: please review