It felt like something was missing, something was off. The room was as cold as it usually was, but the bedding was different. The sheets were softer, the top blanket was heavier, and there was a pillow under his head where there hadn't been one before. One thing was for sure, this was not his bed.
He gracefully swung his legs off the bed and sat up in one swift motion, immediately rising from the bed and looking for a door through which he could make an exit. During his search, Severus luckily found a pair of slacks flung haphazardly atop the closet door next to the bed. He threw them on quickly and turned toward the door on the other side of the room.
"You best be using the loo and coming right back. You promised me all day in bed." He froze while the initial surprise of hearing another's voice washed over him. He certainly did not remember having company last night, though that explained how he ended up in someone else's flat. She groaned and he could tell she was deeply savouring her first stretch of the day and for a split second he enjoyed the idea of a woman who could lose herself to such a simple pleasure instead of keeping up some facade the morning after a one night stand. "I know you didn't mean it, but I thought you could at least make it until noon." As if he would ever spend hours in bed when the sun was already up. Unless it was for sex, of course, but if he couldn't even remember the woman from last night, he doubted he'd bother giving her another chance to make an impression.
He turned around to see what he had gotten himself into and it felt like his body and mind went through a form of trauma that rendered him paralyzed. He couldn't believe what he was seeing for multiple reasons. Her face was familiar, yet different than he last remembered it to look. Not so much different, actually, as it was simply older. Much older. That wasn't how he recognized her though. He recognized her the same way he imagined everyone else in the wizarding world would after all the publicity she received. That hair. Even as the tie was trying, and failing, to contain the massive amount of hair, the curls were spilling out of the loosened bun that rested on the side of her head. She must have noticed this as well when she sat up, because she pulled the tie out, releasing her hair from its prison. She shook her head somewhat violently, then scratched at her scalp and moaned in, what sounded to be, immeasurable pleasure.
"Alright, you win. It was a lovely idea, but you know I can't spend that much time in bed either," she chuckled, still not looking at him while shaking out her curls. Had she looked up, she would have seen the shock he couldn't wipe from his face. Obviously, they had been intimate, but in his experience, women tended to be annoyingly modest the next morning. Apparently that was far from her M.O. as she sat there bare-chested, tits jiggling as she continued to ruffle her own hair and sniggering when her fingers got caught. Not one hint of modesty when the sheet slipped from her body as she stood up from the bed. She looked incredible. She certainly was not the freshly turned 20 year old he knew her to be, but she was all the better for it, in his opinion. No longer the frail girl still recovering from the damages of war, she was full-figured, voluptuous even. He could almost visualise his handprints all over her curves and swallowed the desire to reach out and touch her. She was breath-taking. She was mesmerizing. The simple act of standing up was easily the most erotic thing he had witnessed in years. Decades, even.
He turned from the woman, trying to provide a modicum of privacy, and he saw his favourite shirt draped across the back of a chair. Right as he reached for it, his hand landed on a much smaller hand. He removed his hand from hers and grabbed the shirt. "What are you doing, Severus?" She pulled the shirt out of his hand. "This is my shirt." This had to be her, she was giving him the same pout he had seen throughout her schooling… but how? How could this be the same young woman he had looked after since she was eleven? She was far too old, and acting far too comfortable and familiar in his presence. "Okay, it's yours but you haven't worn it in years." She slipped her arms in and lifted the material over her shoulders. Now that she mentioned it, the shirt was much lighter than he knew it to be. Like it had been left out in the sun, or worn and washed over the course of many years. "Something about it looking better on me," she giggled and gave her body a shimmy before fastening a few buttons between her breasts.
He was always appalled by women who tried to use their body to beguile him. Not that he wouldn't take them up on the offer. It was despicable and he didn't intend his acceptance to be positive reinforcement, but at least he would get a shag out of it. There was something about her though, the way she moved and her silly laugh while doing it. It was as though she wasn't at all trying to be alluring, she simply was. Her voice captivated him without false flirtation, her body was inviting, tempting. All together, the little thing was bewitching.
She went to touch him but he flinched out of reach. "What has gotten into you?" Her expression turned more concerned. "Darling, is everything alright?" He still hasn't spoken, he was almost afraid to start. Instead, his eyes darted around the room, looking for more clothing so he could leave and figure out what had happened to him. Deciding he'd simply need to go sans shirt, he tried to move toward the door when a harsh voice spoke up behind him. "Don't you dare walk away from me when something is clearly wrong." The same commanding intonation he had heard her use on those two idiots for years. "Stop this instant, Severus. I will not hesitate to petrify you and you know it."
He rounded on her with anger in his eyes. "How dare you speak to me like that!"
The fear that usually came in response to his threatening presence was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the witch had the audacity to smile. "There's my husband."
"Husband?" He nearly choked.
"Ye- what? Severus, what's wrong?"
"I don't… remember."
"What do you mean, you don't remember? What don't you remember?"
"I mean just that, Ms Granger. I don't remember. I don't remember any of this. All of this!" He started to panic a bit as he looked around the unfamiliar room again. There were traces of him everywhere, but he didn't put them there. "You."
"You don't… You don't know who I am?"
"Obviously, I know who you are, unless you are not, in fact, Ms Granger."
"Well, not anymore," she smiled coyly, which dropped immediately when the meaning behind the conversation set in. "You don't remember marrying me? This isn't good, Severus. How could you lose that much time?"
"And how much time would that be?"
"We've been married 19 years."
"How old are you?"
"47. Why? Planning on leaving me for a younger witch?"
"That isn't funny, Ms Granger."
"What's funny is how you are normally the one saying that and I'm the one who doesn't find it funny. I suppose it's reassuring that you probably never meant it." She spoke so flippantly, it was as though she was hardly concerned by the situation. "Not that I ever thought you did, really."
She was 47. That was 26, maybe 27 years gone from his memory. Gone from his life. Which would make him 67, with the mind of a 40 year old. So much could change during that time, case in point the room and the woman in it. "This isn't my house," he realised.
"This isn't Spinners' End, if that's what you mean. We left that house after our second ch-" She cut herself off, not wanting to traumatise the man. He didn't handle the announcement of her first pregnancy very well when it happened and that was with the knowledge of their intimate relationship. She wasn't about to throw the existence of multiple children in his face.
"I had a child with you?" He almost sounded disgusted.
"Watch what you say if you plan on walking away from this with a wife."
"It wouldn't make a difference to me," he sneered. "As far as I know, I have no wife."
The witch smiled again. "It's almost refreshing to hear you like this. You've gone soft in your old age, love. Perhaps it was all of the pleasures I have brought to your life." He snorted.
"How old is our first?"
"She's 21."
He nodded instinctually, and she waited for him to figure it out. He wasn't happy then and she was certain he wouldn't be happy now. "You had a child out of wedlock?" There it was.
"We," she corrected him. "You played a very large role in the conception, if I remember correctly… At least I think it was you." He gaped at her, actually speechless for once. "I'm joking! Of course it was you. It was mostly my fault though. I mean, the pregnancy was completely on you, but it was my decision to wait so long before marrying."
"Why?"
"Well, I didn't want to be fat on my wedding day, did I?" The look he gave her was one of disbelief. He might not have remembered their relationship, but he thought he knew her rather well for having only been her professor, and that sounded nothing like the woman he knew. "I needed to know that you wanted to marry me for reasons other than you knocking me up."
"You didn't believe that I loved you?"
"How could I? You never said that you did, and then suddenly I was pregnant and you were proposing." She collapsed onto the small bench in front of a vanity and began applying lotion lazily to her body. "I didn't want us to make the same mistake that both of our parents did, so you needed to prove how much you love me."
"And how, pray tell, did I do such a thing?"
"Oh, lots of flowers and chocolates, love poems and extravagant dinners."
"You're lying." He was slightly distracted by the hands rubbing along her neck and chest, but he knew that wasn't like him at all, even if she supposedly loved her.
"Foot massages and baths with rose petals and homemade salt mixtures." Her hands trailed down her calf, working the cream into her skin. "Boy's night with Harry and Ron."
"Now you're definitely lying."
"Fine. You do give a mean foot massages though, and I wouldn't say no if you felt the need to practise." She stretched out one leg and wiggled her little toes at him with a stupid grin on her face.
"Well?"
She shook her head slightly, looking almost sad for the first time since he announced his substantial break in recollection. "Those memories belong to me… and the man that loves me." Her hands slapped loudly against her thighs, then she stood with a hop. "Come. I'll cook breakfast if you'll brew the tea."
"I don't eat breakfast."
"That's what you think. I give you 12 minutes before you change your mind."
Eleven minutes later, Severus was staring at the food that his - she couldn't actually be his wife, could she? - was preparing, and the only thing he could do to hide the incessant grumbling of his stomach was to talk to her. He asked how they started dating, not hiding his aversion to the idea. She didn't seem to mind, recalling how she wasn't particularly fond of him at first either. It had been a slow burn over the course of two years that finally exploded one day. They never talked about it, they simply continued on doing whatever they were doing until she ended up pregnant and they were forced to address their relationship. It made more sense than him asking out a girl in her mid-twenties.
Sometime during the meal, he realised what he had been calling her all morning and was surprised that she hadn't minded. "Doesn't it bother you that I have been calling you Ms Granger?" Surely she could assume why he had, but she didn't even seem to notice the first time.
"No," she cackled, which fell somewhere between unbecoming and utterly charming. "You still call me that. Especially when you're in the mood." Standing from her seat across the table, she made her way around slowly until she was right in front of him. "Which means I've been in the mood all morning." Boldly, she climbed into his lap and straddled his waist. "I wonder what sex would be like now. If it would be like it used to be."
"Has it not been good recently?" What was he thinking? That was so not important… but also, he really wanted to know.
"Of course it has. I love your cock, in any way you choose to give it to me." The kisses she left along the muscles in his neck sent shivers through his body. Her words! Her words were ones he had never heard before, not with so much sincerity behind them. "But it's been different for a while now. You've been gentler with me since our last child."
"The birth of two children can be-"
"We have three, and I'm fine." She started to kiss his jawline, and was grinding against his lap but he still did not lay a hand on her. "Unless you do not find me attractive like this."
Did he? She was older than he typically preferred, but that was only because his mental age was not currently synced with his body. She was, as she had always been, twenty years his junior. The difference being, he was no longer forty. And yet… His initial reaction that morning was very telling. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, and when he finally forced himself to, the picture had been seared into his mind. There was no doubt about it. He was undeniably very attracted to her. "You're phishing, Ms Granger," he said instead of confirming his opinion of her. It wouldn't do to let her know.
She must have approved of whatever reaction she had seen though, because she was already smiling down at him. "You're allowed to touch me, you know. Get a feel of things," she whispered seductively.
"This is very bizarre for me." Regardless, his hands found her sides and kneaded her flesh through the worn shirt.
"Oh? And I am used to my husband forgetting about me?"
"Ms Granger-"
"Professor," she purred. "If you call me Ms Granger one more time, I will impale myself on your cock before you have the chance to stop me." Did he even want to stop her?
Nope.
He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her down into a heated snog. The most passionate, sloppy, obscene snog of his life.
"No!" He pushed her back, keeping her in place with his hands on her shoulders. "Does this not bother you? Knowing that I don't remember anything? I'm not- I mean, I know… I believe that I trust you when you say I am your husband, but I'm not. Not really, not when I can't remember. Perhaps I should stay elsewhere until this is resolved."
"Well, I want my husband back, but I do hope we can explore this while we have the chance to." Suddenly, she was hit with an idea that excited her. He remembered this excitement from her days at Hogwarts. "Maybe we can create a spell or potion that temporarily suppresses our memories, then it's up to the one who remembers to bait the other." She continued to think about the possibilities. "I'm curious how quickly you could get me in bed if I believed I was twenty. You still made me very uncomfortable… I kind of liked that though."
"Is that what's going on? Did we do this together and you're trying to shag me? Is this some sick competition between us?"
"No! But wouldn't that be fun?"
"I'm not finding it very fun at the moment, you crazy bint."
"Oh, right… well, we can revisit that when you gain back your memories," she said, waving off his insult. "Current you is more open-minded to various role playing. It took years before I could get you to give me detention." She sighed longingly. And with a flash of arousal. He could feel her cunt pulsing on his dick even through his trousers. "If only you could remember. That was the hottest- mmm." Her eyes fluttered shut and she bit her lip. It was the most sexually stimulating image he had ever seen and she was sitting right on his lap. He determined that he didn't care if she was lying and they really had done this to him. At this point, he just wanted to be sheathed inside of her. He was about to tell her as much when she spoke up again, letting him know that he could stay with Draco if that made him more comfortable while they reacquaint themselves. Assuming they couldn't figure out a reversal to their current problem.
"You wouldn't force me to stay?"
"Contrary to what the Prophet wrote when we started dating, neither of us can force the other to do anything. I cannot force you to stay anymore than I could force you to love me."
"You don't seem concerned."
"What do you mean, Severus?"
"I would think that one would be more worried about the love of their life leaving. Do you no longer love me as you once did?"
"Now who's phishing?" She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck and peppered his skin with delicate kisses. "You are correct. I'm not concerned, but not because I don't love you. I cannot explain to you in words how strong my love is for you." She sat back up and shifted off of his cock but continued to lean in so their noses nearly touched. She looked him dead in the eyes and told him, "there is no doubt in my mind that you will find your way back to me. You love me, Severus Snape. We have loved each other for more than twenty years and not once has that wavered." After nuzzling their noses together tenderly, she removed herself from his personal space. "I love you. You love me… And it truly is that simple." She sauntered out of the kitchen and he heard her footsteps ascending the stairs. With nothing else to do other than follow her around, Severus stood up and headed after her.
When he walked into their bedroom, he was hit with a sight he might not ever get used to seeing. Hermione Granger, half naked on the bed with the most lust-ridden look in her eyes. "I can tell you want me, Severus." Her voice was confident and sultry as she called out to him. She was on her knees, unbuttoning his old shirt in the most tantalising fashion.
His demeanour cracked when she asked him if he's ever fucked an older woman. He caught her smirking at a few of his harsh quips back during her school days, but he never would have thought she'd have such a crass sense of humour herself. It was very attractive.
She was very attractive.
And he wanted her.
He wanted to touch her, to taste her.
To fuck her.
So he did. He fucked her. And it was glorious.
The brilliant exploration of a new body, the thrill of a first time without the general clumsiness. She knew exactly what he liked, how he wanted it and he needn't say anything. It was nothing he had ever experienced before. Not that he could remember, at least.
After a spectacular finish for both of them, she rolled off of him and he expected her to lock onto his side, but she kept going right off the bed. "Not much of a cuddler, are you?"
She was already in the bathroom by the time he asked his question. "Neither one of us was much of a- Severus, can you join me in here, please? I can feel you leaking down my leg and I would really like to shower." He stepped into the bathroom, amused by her candidness. It was refreshing, yet strange. She regarded him with a strong familiarity, but even though he knew her, he didn't share the same level of closeness that she felt for him. "Anyway, we both didn't like cuddling, but with each pregnancy I craved it more and you got used to it. Honestly, you loved it. You loved holding me, cradling my belly. Bloody annoying, sometimes." Her hand reached out and pulled him into the water with her. "So, we do cuddle now but I figured you wouldn't be so keen."
"You're being awfully gracious again." He noted an expression of realisation as she scoffed and turned from him. "What?"
"Nothing." He spun her back to face him. Even without a clear view of her face, he knew she was lying which was odd given how bold she had always been. She tried reaching for something behind him, but he grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. "It's nothing, really. I just… It's been so long, I forgot you had such a low opinion of me before we connected."
"I think very highly of you," he argued.
"No," she refuted. "You didn't. If you did, you wouldn't be surprised by my graciousness even now that I am theoretically thirty years more mature than you remember, especially when I was equally as gracious back then, had you cared enough to notice. You begrudgingly acknowledged my intelligence, but you expected me to be juvenile, lacking any real wisdom or experience." He couldn't tell what she was feeling as her tone betrayed no emotion at all, which was quite the contrast to how emotional he remembered the young Gryffindor to be. "I believe some of your choice words were self-righteous, vapid and presumptuous." He was horrified, and he couldn't deny any of it. Partly because this clearly came out during conversations he didn't remember having, but mostly because it was true. Despite her remarkable aptitude to learn, he always suspected her to be an overly confident twit capable of reciting books without understanding what she was saying. "Don't feel too bad, love. I called you obtuse and, if I remember correctly, churlish. The latter of which is still true, by the way. You're a loutish brute when dealing with anyone other than your children. Makes me question every day why I love you so much. Now, either fuck me against the shower wall or hand me the shampoo." Her final statement put him back at ease slightly after everything else she had said. And as much as he would love giving it to her again - or, more honestly, getting from her, because she absolutely rocked him back there - he was way too old and it was still way too soon. So he handed her the purple bottle behind him. "Come, let's finish up in here and get ready."
"For what?"
"We're throwing a party tonight, and I should probably fill you in on a few things."
"A party?"
"Yes, a party. A gathering of friends and family for drinking and general merriment. I know you're quite young, but you are familiar with the concept, are you not?"
He scowled in annoyance. "For what purpose are we hosting this party, Ms Granger?" She glanced down at his cock hungrily. He needed to be careful. It was clear that she missed his old self and seemed eager to take advantage. As pleasurable as that sounded, he didn't think he could handle her… or a fourth child. He wasn't sure how an older version of him was managing three.
"For the purpose of Harry and Neville's birthday, but that's not what we need to go over. I'm sure you'll recognize most of the guests." She started snickering, "much to your dismay." Safe to say she had all the same annoying friends as she did in school. "We should discuss our children before you meet them though."
Half an hour later, Severus sat on the bench at the foot of their bed while his wife pulled out proper party attire for the both of them. "Our eldest daughter, Cordelia Ann, is 21, and our son, Caius, is 17. He graduated this past year."
"Please tell me his middle name isn't Tobias." The wizarding world had a tradition of the father's first or middle name being used as the son's middle name and he was terrified that she would want to further that with their own. "Or Merlin forbid, Harry." Presumably, he would have told her something of his past, so he didn't actually think she'd try to honour his abusive father… but she would absolutely want to name their son after that prat friend of hers and he knew it.
She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Of course not. And it isn't Severus either, though I pushed hard for it." Her lips found his and immediately he lost himself in the pleasures of her skilled tongue and the images of what she'd be able to do with it. "I do love your name… and that wicked mouth of yours." She gave him one last peck before returning to her dress which for some reason he needed to zip up, despite her grip on magic. "We settled on Edgar. Allegedly, you refuse any sentimentality when naming children. It was impossible to hide your disdain when any of our friends had a child, they are almost all named after someone we know." She giggled, partially from his reaction to her referring to them as 'our friends', but also when she remembered his revulsion to every single name Harry chose for his two sons. Especially his second. "Our youngest is 9. Her name's Nerissa but you call her Puck more than anything else."
"Why?"
"I don't know," she replied scornfully, plopping down on her vanity bench. She used her wand to fashion a quick up-do, then began applying makeup manually. "You refuse to tell me. It's something special between the two of you." Her jealousy amused him and he wanted to bite her pout, but refrained as she dabbed on a layer of gloss to her lips. Of course, that only made them more appealing, but he didn't think she'd appreciate the timing.
"We really stuck with your Shakespeare theme, haven't we?"
"My Shakespeare theme? My name might have been used in one of his plays, but it also has roots in Greek mythology, and I believe you me, it was your idea to go with Shakespeare above anything else. You nicknamed my baby girl Puck for Godric's sake! That isn't even a female character!"
Evidently, she had completed her hair and makeup because she stomped from the room and it didn't sound as though she would be coming back. He gave it thirty seconds before finding her in the kitchen where she continued telling him about his kids. A thought that was unsettling for the solitary man at first, but he found himself proud of them already. "Cordelia isn't dating a Weasley, is she?" He asked after finding out that their son was dating the youngest Potter child, Lily.
"No. She was always hanging out with Harry's middle child, Albus, and Draco's son, Scorpius, but nothing ever came from it. Reminds me a bit of my friendship with the boys."
"How comforting," his voice thick with sarcasm. "At least she has enough sense and taste not to settle." He didn't notice the sly smirk forming. "Besides, she's far too young to date. She isn't dating, is she?"
"So, it's okay that Caius is dating and has been for years, but the daughter, who is four years older, whom you don't even remember, is not allowed to date?"
"Correct."
"You're the worst." He ignored her, still waiting on her answer. "No, she isn't dating, you ridiculous man. She's actually never had a boyfriend."
"What is that face you're making? What aren't you telling me?"
"She's not dating," she hesitated, "... because she's in love."
"That makes no sense." They heard the front door open and close, and several loud voices shouting about how they arrived home, as if the entire block couldn't hear them.
"She's afraid to tell him. And you. Doesn't think you'll approve."
"Of course I won't," he grunted. "Why won't I approve?"
"You're the spy," she whispered as the herd approached. "And he'll be at the party tonight. Figure it out yourself."
A group of five walked into the kitchen. A tall, young woman, who, on paper, would have been described as nearly identical to Severus, yet somehow it all worked in her favour. She had waist-long, straight black hair which was a stark contrast to the alabaster skin. She had piercing black eyes, though they held her mother's warmth rather than the empty coldness of her father's. Her nose was large and regal looking, giving her an air of class and superiority. In a matter of seconds, Severus was that much more concerned about his daughter being in love. Seeing how beautiful she was, he knew he would never trust any man with her. Draped around her shoulders was an arm attached to a Charlie Weasley look alike, the only difference being the dark hair, startling green eyes and the cocky smirk James Potter always wore.
Then there was another boy, taller than the older two. Like his sister, Caius shared their father's lean stature, but he had his mother's face. He also had her thick, wavy hair. Fortunately, however, it was tame and more fluffy than it was frizzy which made him look quite handsome in a childishly charming way. He had two girls on him. One sitting on his shoulders, the only Snape child with their mother's tan skin. She had Hermione's adorable button nose, and a combination of their hair, shoulder-length black curls. The other girl was older and latched onto his side. She had one arm wrapped around her boyfriend's back, the other giving Nerissa's foot a playful shake.
Severus froze upon seeing Lily. She looked so much like her grandmother, though that probably had more to do with the Weasley red hair and freckles than Harry's genes. If she had inherited the green eyes like her father and brother had, she would have been the spitting image of his childhood friend. Thankfully, her eyes were brown like Ginny's and half of the Weasley lot. He wasn't in love with Lily anymore, twenty years after her rejection and death was plenty of time to move on. That didn't mean he would be comfortable seeing her again, especially when it wasn't even her.
"Uncle Severus, is everything alright?"
"Dad?" Severus met his son's questioning eye, snapping him out of his temporary trance. It had been a weird fucking day and he felt close to losing it.
"Lily, Albus, would you mind taking Nerissa upstairs for a bit?" Hermione asked politely. "We need to discuss something with Cordelia and Caius."
"Daddy doesn't remember us." The group turned to the young girl, except for Caius whose head was the resting place for her chin. "He doesn't recognise us." Her words were spoken so plainly, as if it were obvious and of no consequence.
"Why would you say that, honey?"
Her brother squatted down and Albus lifted Nerissa off so she could stand on her own. "There's no love in his eyes," she explained.
"Puck-"
"Don't call me Puck unless you know why." He meant it to be comforting, but he could see why it would be upsetting.
"You're right." He knelt down on one knee, alarmed by how much harder it was in his current body. A wizard isn't considered old until he breaks 100, but 67 was definitely not the new 40. "But I do recognize you. I can see so much of your mother and me in all three of you. I will always be able to recognize you as my daughter."
She graced him with a small, closed-lip smile before turning from him. "Can you plait my hair now, Lily? You promised to plait my hair for the party." The redhead nodded and the two girls left the kitchen with Albus in tow.
Hermione explained to their older children that their father had lost the better part of the last three decades. It shocked him to hear her lay it on them so bluntly, but she clearly knew they could handle it because neither reacted poorly to the troublesome news. Cordelia didn't give much away as she listened, but Severus could tell that Caius was bubbling with intrigue, obviously very curious about how this came to be. He was very much his mother's son.
Their daughter finally spoke up with a question that he, too, had been asking himself. "Do you find it peculiar that Nerissa is not upset about this situation?"
"I don't know what to make of it," Caius chimed in. "She's always been disturbingly insightful."
"Please, do not use the word disturbing when describing a member of this family." The two laughed at their mother, but Severus found her somwhat pointless protectiveness to be rather endearing.
"Could she have something to do with it?" As unlikely as it might have been, remarkable things have been known to happen around magical children.
"She's nine, Severus!"
"And she's also our daughter."
"He might have a point, mum… as arrogant as that may be," his daughter smirked. "Perhaps I was too young to realise it with Caius, but I feel like Nerissa experiences more bouts of accidental magic than he did."
"Accidental, my soggy bludger!" That was a new one for Severus and he almost snorted into his tea. "I don't care what that girl says, she does it on purpose. She turned my hair pink when I refused to join her tea party."
"Caius, she was four! And upset with you for saying tea parties were for girls only."
"She's done it twelve times, Cordelia! For a variety of reasons. That isn't accidental."
The door swung open and a raven haired man with round glasses strolled in shouting, "hi, I'm here!"
"Harry!"
"Smooth entrance, Uncle Harry."
"Thanks, Champ."
"What are you doing here?" Hermione shrieked.
"Isn't my party today? Am I early?"
"Yes, Harry! You are early… for your surprise party."
"Oh, oops." He obviously couldn't have cared any less. "Well, I'm here now. How can I help?"
The noise his little wife was making was not cute. She was very mad for a brief moment, until she decidedly gave up. "At least Neville will be surprised," she sighed. Cordelia tittered softly with a bit of a blush as she stood to kiss her uncle on the cheek.
The now older prat returned the greeting then, upon seeing Severus, asked, "Why is your father looking at me like that?" Hermione glanced toward her husband and found a familiar, though long forgotten expression on his face. She elbowed him and the scowl dropped.
"Come on, Uncle Harry." Caius shook Potter's hand. "We'll fill you in while we start setting up the living room for your surprise party." The three promptly exited the room.
"Severus, you need to behave yourself tonight."
"But I don't want to," he replied smugly. "How about I go out for a drink instead."
"Sure," she shrugged.
"Really?"
"Yes. If you don't want to be here, then I don't want you here."
That was rude. And a lie. "Out with it."
"I'm simply shocked that you are knowingly leaving your daughter alone with the man she loves, without even trying to find out who it is. Rowena knows I won't be able to keep my eye on her all night."
"You're trying to manipulate me."
"Yep."
"How devious of you, Ms Granger."
She leaned her body over him in the same manner as this morning. "I just put on a fresh pair of knickers, Professor," she whispered against his ear. "Please restrain yourself."
She left him with half a boner alone in the kitchen. Also rude.
He caught up to her as she was turning into the living room. Upon arrival, they saw the children along with Harry, Ginny, a young man Severus assumed to be the Potter's firstborn and... "Oh, for fuck's sake!" And Neville Longbottom. "I'm never organising a surprise party again. You fuckers are the worst." Everyone cracked up at his wife's expense, Nerissa giggling exuberantly at her mother's foul language. Even Severus found it humorous. He could only imagine the amount of time and effort Hermione Granger would put into planning a party, and to have it ruined? Yes, that would absolutely drive her mad.
Everyone was given one last thing to do, and it wasn't long before the other guests started showing up, at which time Severus began making himself scarce. It was going well. He played nice with a few people who were confused about him wanting to engage in small talk, but with so many people there, they all moved on quickly. The younger children were upstairs in Nerissa's room, Caius and Lily were suspiciously absent and Cordelia spent most of her time with Albus and what could have only been described as Draco Malfoy's clone. He looked so much like Draco and Lucius when they were 20 that Severus couldn't pinpoint one feature that might have been from a mother. And he didn't like his daughter being around someone so good looking, especially if he was a little shit like his parentage, but he chose to take comfort in the fact that his wife was confident her interest lay elsewhere.
Suddenly, he realised that the group of three dispersed. The young Potter was talking to Ms Lovegood's twin boys, and Scorpius was chatting up another redheaded girl that would surely enrage one Ronald Weasley once he dragged his attention away from the food. Scanning the room for his eldest, dreading the moment his eyes landed on her talking to some other man, praying it wasn't going to be James Potter, Severus spotted Harry walking over with his hands resting on Nerissa's shoulders. "I think someone here has something to tell you both." The three of them found Hermione in the kitchen, replenishing a few of the refreshments. "I was checking on the youngin's when I heard something of interest." He gave her a shoop. "Go on, dear. They won't be too upset," he promised when she shook her head.
"It was you, wasn't it?" Severus asked, not yet sure if he was proud of his prodigy's magical prowess or vexed by her use of it on him. "How did you do it, little one?"
"Nerissa!" Hermione must have accepted her daughter's silence as a confession. "Have you any idea how dangerous that could have been? Why on Earth would you do such a thing?"
"Because Molly and Freddie said that you two don't love each other. That you only got married because of Delia. But that's not true. It's not! You love each other."
"Of course, that's not true, but what does this have to do with your father's memory? Why did you take away his memories of us?"
"Because if he fell in love with you again, then everyone would know it's real."
"That doesn't really make sense, honey," Hermione said, trying to reason with a nine year old. "Now we have three children. That's all the more reason for him to stay."
"Either way," Severus interrupted. "You made your point. Now you need to fix this."
"No!" she wailed. "Not until you love mummy again!" Then she ran straight from the room.
"I'm so glad my children suck at magic, this would never happen at my house." Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend as he left. His kids were plenty powerful and each one was unruly in their own way. Both Minerva and Flitwick threatened to retire every year a Potter, Snape or Weasley was due back at school. They might actually follow through in two years.
"Slytherin in the making," referring to their youngest.
"Severus, she performed underaged magic to prove to another child that her parents love each other."
"Exactly. Cunning, shrewd. Slytherin."
She shook her head defiantly. "Bold, brash. She's a Gryffindor, through and through."
"Ugh." He knew she was right. "Tell me the other two are Slytherins."
"Your princess is everything you would have ever wanted in a child, which is probably why you agreed to have another. Not that you had a choice. I was already pregnant." She paused for dramatic effect and he hated it. Finally, she put him out of his misery and explained that Caius was a Ravenclaw, which definitely made sense.
"A Slytherin, a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor. Could be worse. No more though, we can't risk having a Hufflepuff in the family." There was absolutely nothing wrong with that house, as long as it wasn't under his roof. "What?"
"That's what you said the night we recognized Nerissa for what she'll be. Come on, we can't hole up in here and ignore everyone."
"Why not?"
They rejoined the party with several snack bowls and drink pitchers in hand or levitating behind them. Before making it to the table, he spotted Cordelia talking to someone. Someone who really shouldn't have been a threat, but he knew better than to ignore any possibility. Once his hands were free, he headed over to the pair to see what exactly was so funny.
"Severus."
"Have I given you permission to call me by my name?"
"Uh… yes?"
"Ignore him, Neville" his eldest interrupted. "We're having an unusual day."
"Since when do you call him Neville?"
"Daddy." Her voice conveyed a warning, but he didn't listen.
"He was your professor, was he not?"
"And you were mother's," she responded pointedly.
In any other situation, her statement might not have connected the dots for him, but when he was specifically looking for the man his daughter deemed worthy of her hand and heart, well it made her choice rather clear. He looked to his wife who appeared by his side and her face provided all the confirmation he needed. "Oh, no! I don't think so!"
"Severus, do calm down."
"Absolutely not! I forbid it!"
"Forbid what?" Neville asked the two women.
"Cordelia," he growled. "In the kitchen. Now!" He exited the living room knowing that his wife and daughter were following. Once he heard the door close, he rounded on them. "Isn't he married or something by now? Surely someone would be willing to settle for him."
"Daddy!"
"Severus." There was both sadness and warning in Hermione's voice. "He was married to Hannah Abbott. The Hufflepuff from my year. There were… unforeseen complications during childbirth," she explained delicately. "He lost both of them."
"Oh." He wasn't an empathetic man, but even he could imagine the heartache. He's been married to Hermione for less than a day, had known of his children for half that time, and still he would not wish to lose any of them. "Well, she's too young to be dating a widower."
"You don't need to worry about that because he doesn't even know how I feel, so please stop shouting it!"
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, sweetheart." Hermione was looking past them, so the arguing father/daughter pair turned toward the door.
"Talking about me?" the younger man asked with a sheepish grin.
Cordelia looked like she was about to burst into tears. "No! Of course not! I uh- uh…" she looked at her father, then glanced back to her mother for help. But there wasn't anything Hermione could say.
"Cordelia," Neville sighed in defeat.
"No, Neville! Really. Don't be silly." She was shaking her head frantically, barely holding in her panic. "We weren't. We were talking about daddy's friend from Italy."
"For better or worse, Cordelia, you are so much like your dad." She gave him a sad, inquisitive look. She was often compared to her father, much to her immense pride, but she didn't understand why he was doing so now. "With most people, especially the boys in school, you were always reserved, very calculating, stoic almost… and you're kind of mean."
"What's your point?" she asked, mildly offended by the last bit. She was kind of mean, she knew that, but she didn't want the love of her life to say it.
"I'm not blind to how different you are around me."
"You knew?"
"You've always treated me differently than any of your mum's other friends, you spoke differently to me than I had seen with your other professors, and though I do not put myself in the same category as any of my students, you look at me differently than any of your male peers."
She was completely mortified. "You never said anything," she said, realising that most likely meant that he wasn't even remotely interested.
"You never crossed a line, it would have been very inappropriate of me to have done or said anything. Besides, I always assumed it was a passing fancy, that you would eventually notice someone your age, someone more appropriate for your affection."
She took a step toward him but was immediately held back by the hand of her father. "Let's keep this distance as is."
"Father, you're being absurd." His eyebrows rose dramatically. It was the first time all afternoon that she had not called him 'daddy', and he wondered what that meant within the bounds of their relationship. She moved his hand away from, but respected his wish and did not approach the man she loved. "Are you not- Do you not find me-" This would already be an uncomfortable conversation, but the awkwardness was tenfold with the presence of her parents.
Before learning what Neville might have said, Severus interjected his impression on the matter. "He's too old for you!"
"That is so hypocritical, daddy!"
"Hardly! Your mother is only twenty years younger than I am."
"Only twenty! Do you hear yourself? Am I to believe that an additional five years makes this that much worse?"
"She was also older than you are now, more mature."
"I'm going to ignore that last comment considering you don't even know who I am right now. I'm not even four years younger than she was when you two started dating."
"He doesn't know who- You know what, never mind. I never understand what goes on in his house. Listen, Cordelia, your dad's right. I'm 46, well, 47 now, and I'm your mum's friend." He was shaking his head and all she saw was his rejection. "Does that not bother you at all?"
"No!"
"I'm okay with it." Everyone looked at Hermione like she was crazy. "In case anyone was wondering… Of course, I would prefer someone her own age, but she's right, I really can't say anything considering our marriage. And, if she's going to date someone my age, I would want it to be Neville. Honestly, I would prefer Neville over some of the hooligans that are her age." The man in question nodded, agreeing strongly to her comment. Not the 'preferring it to be Neville'bit, more the hooligans part. Some of his former students were not the best option for her and he would have been very concerned had she accepted any of the numerous appeals. "As for you," she addressed her friend, "I just want you to be happy. It's been a long time and you still haven't really gone out with anyone. This might be a good opportunity, because then you both can go very, very… very slowly."
Severus was grumbling. "I don't like this."
"Well, neither does Neville apparently, so you can calm down."
Cordelia wouldn't look at either man, especially not the one she claimed to love, but Hermione was watching his face intently. She saw a flicker in his eyes. While part of her really did not want to know, she was curious how much time he had reflected on this situation. "It's okay," she encouraged him.
"It's not okay," her husband interjected, but he received a swift swat to the gut.
"Cordelia," Neville sought her attention. It took a moment before she finally looked up. He looked over at the man that used to literally haunt his nightmares to make sure he was not preparing to attack, not that he'd see it coming or be able to do anything about it. "Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?"
"You don't have to do that."
"I want to," he affirmed. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."
"Dinner?" She perked up a little at the prospect of him possibly feeling the same. "Like a date?"
The first response to the question was a grunt from someone off to the side, which was met by another strike to the gut. "Not a date," Neville continued cautiously. "Let's call it... A, um, pre-date."
"I don't know what that means."
"Neither do I," he chuckled nervously. "But we can discuss this, whatever this may become… preferably without him trying to murder me with his eyes."
"Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."
"Ya, I'll hold you to that."
"Still need little girls to protect you, Longbottom?"
"You do know that we're kind of friends now, don't you?" Looking back at the two women who didn't hate him, "what is going on with him?"
"I'll tell you inside," the youngest replied, linking their arms and leading him back to the party.
Two hours later, most of the party cleared out and Neville was preparing to leave. He saw Cordelia looking over at him, even though she tried hiding it as soon as he peered in her direction. "Do you still like curry?" He approached her after saying a few goodbyes and grabbing his cloak. She nodded eagerly, very excited for the pre-date dinner. "Great. I'll come by tomorrow around 5, ya?"
"I'd love that. Could we also get-" She stopped herself from asking something that could have potentially ruined her chances with him.
When the kids were younger, he used to regularly take them out to get ice cream. On the one hand, she thought fondly of those times and assumed it would be sweet for them to get ice cream together once more. On the other hand, she realised only slightly too late that he took her out when she was quite literally a child and perhaps it would remind him of their age gap which would only make the evening feel too strained.
"I always crave a scoop or two of something cold and sugary after I eat anything spicy. Hope you don't mind a pop in on our way back." She awarded him a dazzling smile. He knew exactly what she had wanted and welcomed it without judgement. "I'm off. I'll see you tomorrow evening." He kissed her temple, as he always did, though this time it earned him a wistful sigh from the witch, and a disgruntled growl from the scary man across the room.
Everyone was gone, and the house was already tidied and put back together thanks to the efficiency of magic. "Okay, hun. You made your point." Hermione pulled their daughter away from her game. "We still love each other. Now reverse the charm."
"No."
"Yes," Severus demanded.
Caius inquired as to why she wouldn't reverse the charm when she said no again, to which she responded, "They didn't even say please!"
"Please, reverse the charm!"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm nine. I don't know how to reverse magic. I don't even know how I did it." Caius howled at his little sister's sass, but stopped abruptly when he got the 'knock it off' look from his father. He took his younger sister upstairs to help her get ready for bed, leaving the two alone again.
"What are we going to do, Severus?"
"Memory spells are likely to wear off when not performed properly. It's likely I will wake up tomorrow fully recovered."
"And if you don't? What if you never remember loving me? Or the children?"
"I don't think you need to worry about any of that, love." He was already halfway there.