Disclaimer: JKR owns it all
A/N: Here is the last part of the series. :) I hope! Thank you all for your lovely reviews and support.
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Hermione opened the door a crack, and flicked her wand in to draw the curtains around his bed and bind them.
"What…Hermione, that is not necessary."
"Yes it is."
"I can remember everything, damn you. I remember everything about the War, everything about our time at Grimmauld, I discovered that I love you and yes, I know how it happened, but yesterday the last elusive bit of memory pertaining to you decided to unlock itself during my morning exercises."
"You're referring to that night…"
"That night where we both had the best sex of our lives? Yes."
Hermione blushed.
---
"Well, you insufferable man, now that you remember everything, I trust we'll be able to proceed as we were four months ago?"
"Yes," came the grunt from within the curtained chamber. "And I'd like to start with an encore performance of that night, if it's all the same to you…"
Hermione sighed. "Severus, we can't."
"I don't see why the bloody hell not."
"We can't because I won't be able to get into half of those positions!"
"Surely you haven't lost your limbs whilst I was recovering my memory?"
"Severus!" she exclaimed, and yanked one of the curtains away. "I'm bloody fucking pregnant with your spawn and I'd kindly appreciate it if you could drag your sorry arse home as soon as possible!"
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His eyes bulged as he saw the distinct swell of her belly.
"We…" He shook his head. "What?"
"Yes, we did everything, but, as they say, abstinence is the only 100 effective method to…" She stopped short as he put a hand on her protruding stomach.
"Hermione," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I…" he winced.
"Stop it. You didn't ask to be Obliviated. And as for your temperament, I've never expected otherwise. Though you'll have to tone it down once we have…" She gestured to her stomach in vain. Severus' eyes seemed locked on it.
"Do you know…" he started. She shook her head.
"I…I wanted to wait," she whispered. "Until you…remembered…to find out."
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He took one of her hands in his and kissed it. "What did I do to deserve you, woman?"
"Well." She grinned like a Cheshire cat and sat next to him on the bed. "You're the most intelligent man I've ever met, the bravest, the most loyal," she continued, ticking off her fingers. "The snarkiest, the best conversationalist, you're fantastically witty, you love to verbally spar, you're a right brilliant shag, and you're probably the only man I know who would be willing to catalogue my library."
"As I did," he said thoughtfully, brushing a hair from her face. "Twice."
She smiled. "I've missed you."
"And I, you."
---
They held each other on the bed for what seemed like hours, Hermione eventually falling asleep in his arms. He drifted off not long after.
They slept, oblivious to the noise that the Order members were creating in the hall outside.
"Now," Pansy was instructing. "He's just now remembered everything…"
"Including the night in the cellar?" Tonks piped up.
"Oh, please, Tonks, I'll shag you in the cellar to get it out of your system," Remus implored. His wife grinned back wickedly.
Pansy looked at them sternly and turned to Minerva. "He remembers everything, but his first priority – his only priority, really – has been Hermione. So just…be respectful."
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Pansy walked over to the door to let them in, and opened it. She took in her breath slightly. She went to turn back and tell them not to come in, but they'd all crowded behind her.
"That's so romantic," Tonks murmured.
"You're talking about Severus, remember," Remus reminded her.
"They look so…peaceful," Minerva said kindly.
They looked behind them at the ruckus that was coming down the hall.
"Wotcher, boys," Tonks said softly.
"What are we all lookin' at?" George asked, peering in. "Oh, Christ," he muttered, turning away.
The Order members backed away from the door, leaving the lovers together.
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EPILOGUE
"Unca Ron! Unca Ron! Te' me another story!"
Ron chuckled at the black, curly-haired three-year-old who was sitting on his lap. How Hermione and Snape had produced such an adorable child was beyond him.
"Now, now, Sophie. Your mother told me to put you to bed. She'll be angry if I tell you two stories instead of one."
"Oh, pweese, Unca Ron? Pweese?" she asked, turning up her puppy-dog eyes at her mother's best friend. Ron looked at the obsidian eyes, inherited from her father, and cleared his throat.
"Which one do you want to hear?"
"When daddy didn't 'member things!" Sophie bounced up and down on his lap. Ron burst out laughing.
"Well, if you insist…"