A/N: Thanks for your patience and your reviews!

Chapter 19: Under Scrutiny

Stepping out of the fireplace, Severus noticed his wife curled up in the corner of the sofa with a large book. He cast one glance at the clock before clearing his throat. "You are not going into the village today?"

Hermione raised one eyebrow as she flipped a page. "I am not."

"Any particular reason?" he asked.

"Besides being unable to tear myself away from your sparkling personality?"

The wizard glared at her. "I did not ask for sarcasm."

She sighed deeply, but did not lift her eyes from the book. "Sorry."

Grunting, Severus continued on his path down to his laboratory. He placed the inventory log from the Hogwarts infirmary next to the ones he had received from Lupin and Hestia Jones regarding the potions stock at each of the Order safe houses. After compiling a master list of what would need to be brewed and in which order, he quickly catalogued the quality and quantity of his ingredients stores. Once he was certain he had determined everything he needed to either harvest or purchase, he returned upstairs to find that the witch was still scowling down at her book.

As he donned his travelling cloak, he looked to her once more. "Are you quite certain you do not –"

"I don't want to go to Hogsmeade," Hermione responded without allowing him to finish his question.

Taking in a deep breath to keep from snapping at her, he focused on straightening his cuffs. "Would you similarly object to a London trip?"

She finally looked up from her book. "What?"

"I need to replenish a number of my stores. If you do not find it undesirable, you may accompany me."

Blinking slowly for several seconds, she lowered her book. "Really?"

"I'm not in the habit of extending offers I do not mean to honor," he mumbled. "If you do not wish to –"

"No, no! I'll go!" Hermione quickly scrambled off of the sofa and ran into her room to fetch her corduroy jacket. Upon returning, she noticed him staring at her oddly. "What?"

She glanced down at her trainers and jeans before meeting his gaze. "Too Muggle? It's either this or my school robes. I don't have any casual robes."

Severus sighed and rubbed his eyebrow. "Do you have any other shoes?"

"Well, yes," she admitted. "I have a few pairs of flats or –"

"One of those will do."

Nodding, the witch disappeared back behind the tapestry to change shoes. Upon reappearing, she ducked into the lavatory. When she left the door open, however, Snape narrowed his eyes in confusion. After a number of minutes, his curiosity forced him to ask, "What are you doing?"

"Make-up. Or at least, I'm attempting to."

Huffing, the wizard sank onto the sofa and picked up her discarded book. "Whatever for?"

The clatter of something against the sink and a muffled curse could be heard before she replied with a hard edge to her voice. "Do you want a dowdy wife, or one who looks like she at least makes an effort? After all, my appearance is a reflection of your own image."

"Merlin's sake," Severus snarled. Seeing that the book she was reading was the one the Malfoy's had sent her, he bitterly threw it onto the armchair. "How long will this take?"

Hermione snorted before stepping out of the bathroom. "Well, if I were like Lavender, it would take at least half an hour…but lucky for you, I know next to nothing so I've done all I can do."

"Lucky me," he growled, standing up and gesturing toward the hallway door. Exiting their quarters, he waited for her to take his arm before escorting her down a narrow corridor and up a few winding flights of stairs to a non-descript wooden door.

The girl gasped in surprise as they stepped out into the sunlight.

"Only the Headmaster and Heads of House may access that door," Snape explained as he led her through an overgrown path to a small gate. "Similarly, this gate appears only for members of the upper staff."

"Makes sense, I suppose," she murmured. "It doesn't seem safe to only have one exit."

"Indeed not." After securing the gate behind them, Severus paused briefly, pointing his wand at himself to transfigure his cloak into a Muggle-style coat over dark trousers. "Stop gaping, Granger. It certainly isn't your most attractive look."

Hermione slammed her mouth shut. "I just… I thought we were going to Diagon Alley."

"We are," he countered. "However, I need to make a brief stop first."

"Where are we – "

Snatching her arm, he quickly apparated them away.

"—going, you arse!" she finished, as soon as they slammed to halt. Bending over, she heaved in several deep breaths to quell the violent nausea that had resulted from their journey.

"Come along." Severus tapped impatiently on her shoulder as he stepped past her out of the dark copse of trees. "This isn't a neighborhood where you dawdle."

The witch glared at his back as she straightened and glanced around. Her nose wrinkled at the filthy, brown river running beneath the stone walking bridge they were crossing. "Where are we? This doesn't look like London... at least not in this century."

"Because it isn't London."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she hustled after him. Spotting a dilapidated sign in desperate need of either repair or replacement, she read, "Inner's End?"

"Spinner's End," he corrected.

"Oh. The sign must be broken."

The man grunted in confirmation. "It has been as far as I can recall."

"So, what's Spinner's End?" she asked, glancing nervously at a pair of rough-looking men who were leaning up against a rusted out car.

Taking her elbow and tugging her closer to his side, he leveled a cold glare over her head at the Muggles who were gesturing suggestively. "It's a neighborhood."

"I can see that," the witch sighed. "But where exactly?"

"Cokeworth."

Hermione glanced up at him in exasperation. "And where is –"

"Lancashire," he muttered, guiding her up the crumbling cement steps of a rowhouse.

"Who lives here?"

Severus stared at her as he produced a silver key, inserted into the lock, and then swung open the creaking door. "I do."

"Oh." The witch swallowed as she stepped into a small, dark hall. She waited nervously until he pointed for her to go through the propped open door to the sitting room.

An improvement from the almost sulfuric smell of the river, the house merely smelled of dust and stale air. The drapes let in no light from the windows, so she had to blink several times before she could discern anything about her surroundings. When she could see, she noticed that the furniture and area rug were worn and had long faded from their original colors. There were few decorations – an oval mirror above the fireplace, tarnished candlesticks on the mantelpiece, and a solitary landscape which hung on the wall across from the heavily shaded window. The rest of the wall space was lined with shelves stuffed with books of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

Spinning slowly around, Hermione noticed her husband was watching her from the doorway. "It's…erm, quite cozy."

He snorted under his breath. "It's a shit-stack, Granger. Don't insult either of our intelligence by pretending otherwise."

Blushing, she swung her gaze back around the room and shrugged. "It's in no worse shape than Grimmauld Place was."

"Forgive me if I don't see the compliment in that." The man stepped backward and gestured to a door beneath the stairs. "I have some specimens to check on in the cellar. Stay here."

With a nod, she gingerly perched on the edge of the sofa until he disappeared down the rickety stairs. Then, she smirked and quickly returned to her feet.

"Specimens in the cellar, hmm? Don't suppose it's anyone I know," Hermione said to herself as she made her way about the somewhat cramped room.

A thin sheen of dust covered the mantel, end table, and lampshade; and a few small cobwebs had gathered at the base of the candlesticks. She barely avoided tripping over a frayed edge of the rug, and the few expanses of yellowed wallpaper indicated it was peeling. Given the state of the room, it surprised her somewhat to note that the framed photograph of a waterway surrounded by large hills hardly seemed faded at all. Upon closer inspection, she realized there was no actual glass in the frame and, as she extended her fingers toward it, she could feel the faint tingling of a protection charm.

"Huh," she mumbled, wondering why that particular item received more care than anything else. Shifting her attention, she scanned the bookshelves and was intrigued to see Muggle texts mixed in with the Wizarding titles. Several, in fact, were quite similar to ones that had been in her grandfather's collection before he died. Though she was tempted to peek in a few of the more unfamiliar tomes, she knew her time to explore was limited.

A narrow door near the corner of the room looked to be a closet, and Hermione willed it not to creak as she eased it open. A string dangled in front of her, and she pulled it, turning on the overhead light. Staring up at the bare bulb, she clucked in surprise. He uses electricity? Grimmauld Place is a Muggle neighborhood, but Sirius doesn't have electricity.

And he certainly doesn't have a television set. The witch gaped at the admittedly antique television that had been shoved onto the bottom shelf next to a stack of unlabeled boxes. The amount of dust on it indicated it likely had not seen the outside of the closet in many years, however.

Switching off the light, she shut the closet and then continued through a doorway, which lacked an actual door, into the kitchen. The windows in this room did not boast heavy drapery like the front sitting room, and as such was a much brighter space. The cupboards were painted a rather ugly shade of yellow - or what might have once been cream – and some of the hardware hung crooked on the doors and drawers. The countertop, though scraped and chipped, was clear of any clutter, and the sink was empty. An ancient stove and refrigerator occupied one wall, and a table with two chairs was shoved up against the far end.

As Hermione moved past the refrigerator to peer out the garden window, something heavy suddenly dropped onto her head. Immediately, her hands flew to her hair, knocking the unknown – and furry— weight to the floor. Upon seeing that it was a large rat, she screamed and fled back to the sitting room. Jumping up onto the sofa, she wiped desperately at her head and scanned the floor for any other rodents.

Her heart was pounding as Severus thundered up the cellar stairs, slammed open the door, and appeared in the room with his wand in his hand. Seeing no immediate threat, his gaze swung questioningly toward her. "What?!"

The witch grimaced and gestured toward the kitchen. "There was… there was a rat!"

Letting out a deep sigh, he dropped his hands to his sides. "Fuck sake, witch! A rat! You live in a castle, and frequently utilize them or their parts in your classes."

"IT DROPPED ON MY HEAD!"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and wordlessly disappeared back downstairs.

Glaring after him, wide-mouthed, Hermione crossed her arms and continued standing on the sofa. Her anger abated somewhat when he reappeared after a few minutes and strode in the direction of the kitchen. Hopping down, she trailed him and then pointed to the refrigerator. "It was up there, and it jumped on my head. I flung it over there."

Scowling, her husband paced across the length of the kitchen, bending over to peer beneath the table before yanking open the pantry door to check there. He then proceeded to check all of the cupboards, shutting each one with a progressively louder bang, and then straightened to his full height to study the top of the refrigerator. After fiddling with the garden door, he returned to the sitting room and slowly prowled about the perimeter.

Several minutes later, he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I don't see anything."

"I'm not imagining things!" she argued.

"Did I say you were?" he retorted.

The witch frowned and stomped after him as he moved to the front exit. "You seemed to imply it."

"I didn't take you to be this worked up over a mouse."

"It wasn't a mouse. It was a rat. A giant, bloody rat. I don't like rats. I hated that horrible thing Ronald used to keep about, and was extremely disappointed to find that Crooks didn't actually kill it. Perhaps we would have been better off if he had!"

"We would have, yes." Severus held open the door for the sputtering witch and then pulled it firmly shut.

"It looked just like that, so don't you dare insinuate that I don't know the difference between a mouse and a rat!"

He froze with the key in the lock and then turned to look at her. "You mean it looked like the vermin Weasley had?"

"Yes! It was disgusting."

Pinching his lips into a thin line, Severus slowly withdrew the key and tucked it into his pocket. "There weren't any droppings."

"So?"

After glancing hesitantly about the street to ascertain there were no witnesses, the wizard slipped out his wand. He quickly added a few extra layers to his wards and then sheathed his wand.

"What did you just do?" Hermione hissed.

"Never you mind," he muttered, taking hold of her wrist and tugging her back to the street. "We have places to be."

Apparating into one of the designated alcoves in Diagon Alley, Severus reverted his clothes to their original state and then trained his wand on his wife.

"What are you…oh!" Hermione exclaimed, watching as her jacket lengthened and reshaped itself into something more in line with Wizarding fashion. Stepping out of the shadows, she caught her reflection in a shop window and then quirked a grin back at him. "That's quite good, actually."

Giving her a mocking bow, he held out his arm, which she promptly tugged down so that she could place her hand in his.

"Or is there some pureblood rule against holding hands?" she queried.

"Not to my knowledge, no."

"Good." She tightened her grip on his hand. "Because there's only so much old-fashion I can take. Now, where to?"

Doing their best to appear happy in each other's company and oblivious to the ogling of the passersby, the pair quickly made their way to his preferred supplier. Upon reaching a windowless storefront with a peeling, painted sign that read 'Humboldt's Wholesales', Hermione looked askance.

Severus tilted his head. "At Slug & Jiggers you pay extra for the ambiance."

"You consider Slug & Jiggers as having ambiance? What, because they have windows?" she scoffed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that, should I?"

"Excess light harms the quality of ingredients," he stated defensively.

Shaking her head in amusement, the witch followed him into the building. Almost immediately she halted and felt her jaw drop. "Wow."

"Do you still doubt my expertise on the subject?"

"No," she whispered, dropping his hand so she could better view the long rows of shelving, which twisted this way and that and seemed to extend forever. "Am I allowed to look around?"

"As long as you don't get lost," he commented.

Hermione fixed him with a brief glare, but internally admitted that she very well could get lost in the lowly-lit maze of the warehouse. As he moved to speak with the proprietor, she turned down the nearest aisle and slowly scanned each of the shelves. Things at Slug & Jiggers were arranged alphabetically, but here she could not quite discern how or even if things were organized. Making a mental note to ask Snape, she casually strolled through the winding aisles, excited both by the number of items she recognized and the number of things she had never before seen.

While studying a jar of live Jewel-tipped Flutterwings, the witch felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Nervously, she glanced around the area she was in and caught sight of a man in a dark cloak. Her eyes locked with his, and the way he hungrily leered made her skin crawl. Her heart rate rising, she carefully returned the jar to the shelf and spun on her heel. Slipping her wand from her pocket, she frequently checked to make sure he was not following her as she swiftly made her way back through to the center of the shop.

Snape stood at the sales counter, and the girl made a beeline for him. Silently, she inserted herself beside him and turned again to check the store. The tension radiating from her body drew her husband's attention away from the elderly proprietor. "Hermione? Is something the matter?"

"I…I don't know," she stammered, flicking her eyes up to him and then back in the direction from which she had come. "There was this man… watching me. He didn't say anything… or do anything, I don't think…but it… it was creepy."

His hand came to rest on her shoulder as his head gaze snapped toward the shelves. "Did he look familiar?"

"N-no. I've never seen him before, I'm sure. He was wearing a hooded cloak, but I could see his face. He just kept staring at me – not even blinking – and he had this… expression."

As Severus tightened his grip on her shoulder, Humboldt cleared his throat and leaned closer. "Madam Snape, where were you?"

"Erm… by the flutterwings," she replied, looking back at the kind-eyed man.

"Live or dead specimens?"

"Live."

"Pastels or jewels?"

"Jewels."

"Be but a moment, Professor," Humboldt smiled before limping off toward that area.

Hermione let out a deep breath and pressed her hand to her face. "I'm probably overreacting. I mean, after the rat…"

"It's alright," he murmured, stepping closer to her as he kept watch over her head. "Vigilance is advisable given the current political climate."

She nodded slowly and loosened her grip on her wand.

"Once Humboldt returns, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes to finalize the details for the shipment to the school. We can then go wherever you wish."

"Okay." The witch sank against his arm while they waited for the old wizard to return. "Severus?"

He pulled his gaze briefly away from the shelves to look down at her. "Hmm?"

"How do you know where anything is located in here?"

A bemused smirk appeared on his face. "When you stop asking questions, I shall know to be concerned."

She glared at him.

"Humboldt uses a rather complex system to place things according to class, effect, toxicity, and other properties while minimizing potential interaction or contamination. It takes an advanced knowledge of the stock to be able to theorize where a particular specimen might be stored. To know for certain, however, you would have to have intimate knowledge of the workings of Humboldt's mind. In essence, you likely wouldn't know where to find something without asking unless you have already found it on a prior visit."

"You could use Legillimency, I suppose."

"I could," Severus agreed. "Or I could muster some semblance of politeness and ask a question."

"Asking questions? Someone once told me that it was a tedious waste of his time to keep answering questions."

"Tedious use of time," he corrected. "I did not say it was a waste."

"I assumed it was implied."

"Then that is on you, madam." Snape straightened and caught the eye of the proprietor as he hobbled back to the counter.

"Whoever he was, it appears you spooked 'im. Slipped out the Knockturn door. Laria didn't manage more than a glimpse of 'im before he was gone. Certainly wasn't here for purchasin', though. That was right clear. My 'pologies, Madam Snape."

Hermione smiled anxiously at the man. "It's alright, Mr. Humboldt. You could hardly be considered at fault, sir. I thank you for looking for him."

The man flashed his pale eyes toward Snape. "Got yerself a proper lass there, haven't ya, Professor?"

"So it would seem," Severus replied with a smirk before glancing down at his wife. "If you see him again, tell me immediately."

The young woman nodded and then leaned against the counter to follow along as they negotiated the terms of the order. Once everything was settled and Humboldt wished them a more pleasant day, the pair returned to the momentarily blinding light of Diagon Alley.

Surveying the crowd, Snape leaned into her to whisper, "Do you see him anywhere?"

Hermione pressed a hand against her stomach to calm her nerves as she shook her head. "No. He's not here."

"Keep your guard up. If he does mean anything nefarious, he may in disguise."

"Right. Okay." Exhaling deeply, she took hold of his hand again and then cleared her throat. "So, you don't hand pick all of the ingredients? You just trust that he will send the best quality?"

"I expect him to, yes," he answered, maintaining attention on their surroundings. "Humboldt knows full well that I will not authorize payment until I personally verify that what has been sent is up to my standards."

"So he trusts you, then," she remarked. "Sending merchandise before you pay him."

"Perhaps. He was a Ravenclaw. They are somewhat more trusting than Slytherins."

"Somewhat, yes," Hermione laughed. "He didn't seem to dislike me, though, which is a rarity amongst Ravenclaws."

"You are a rather persistent thorn in their side," Snape commented.

The witch batted her eyes up at him. "Oh, because you're not?"

Shrugging, he lifted their joined hands to gesture to a tea shop. "Does the snark indicate I need to feed you?"

"It amazes me that no one married you before now," she whispered as they cut through the crowd of people to reach the other side of the alley.

"Fortunately for you, that happy privilege rests solely with you."

Hermione forced herself to keep smiling as she replied, "Yes. Quite fortunate for me."

Pushing a book back into its place, Severus turned back to where his wife was happily skimming a volume from the bargain shelves. In an effort to ascertain whether she was staying cognizant of the people milling about the bookshop, he moved behind her and slipped a hand about her waist.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, stifling the urge to jump.

"Making sure you're paying attention."

Hermione snorted and leaned back against him to whisper, "Two witches giggling in the corner as they pretend not to be watching us, an elderly couple looking through a cookbook at the end of the aisle, and a portly man browsing on the other side of the stack."

"A fair assessment," he murmured.

She pressed her lips together, trying to ignore the tingling of his hand on her stomach and the warmth of his body seeping into hers. "You can step back now."

Snape moved his lips closer to her ear. "I would if it weren't for the fact that the old people have produced a camera."

"What?" She flicked her eyes briefly in their direction before looking up at him. "I figured it was the wizard on the other side who was the reporter."

"Following people tends to be more successful if you don't look like you're capable of following people."

"Noted." When the camera bulb flashed, she sighed and returned her gaze to the book in front of her.

Glaring at the photographers, Severus shifted to stand beside her. He kept one hand on her back, however, since there were still interested parties observing them. After scanning the marked down titles in front of him, he peered over her shoulder. "I do own a copy of that, you know."

"I do know." She shivered as his thumb lightly rubbed against her spine.

He lifted one eyebrow. "So why –"

"Because I presently don't have permission to read it."

He blew out a puff of air. "You may borrow that particular one if you wish."

With a smile, Hermione closed the book with a snap and placed it back on the shelf. Holding up a second book, she cocked her head. "And this one?"

"Fine."

"Thank you." She returned that book to the shelf and then picked up a small stack of books. "May I get these, then?"

Severus removed his hand from her in order to take the pile from her. "Far be it from me to tell you how to spend your money."

"I thought it was your money now," the witch muttered, leaning into his shoulder.

"It will be added to your tally and deducted from what I return to you at the conclusion of this venture," he explained as they slowly started toward the front of the shop.

Hermione took hold of his elbow, giving a brief smile to a little girl who waved to her. "And will you be charging me for lunch?"

"You think me that unchivalrous?" the wizard asked, amused. "You will, however, be paying for your clothes."

Her eyes snapped up to his. "What clothes?"

He cracked a smirk as he looked down at her. "No wife of mine will continue parading about in transfigured robes. After all, I do have an image to protect."

Hermione swallowed back the loud exclamation she desperately wanted to make, settling instead for a hissed, "You paraded about in transfigured clothes."

"In a Muggle neighborhood where no one is likely to use even the simplest of cancellation spells. One well-placed finite incantatem, and you'll…"

"Okay!" she gasped, digging her fingers into his arm. "But you don't get to abandon me. You're going to sit there patiently until I'm finished."

Severus grit his teeth momentarily before faking a quiet chuckle for the benefit of the sales clerk. "Whatever you want, dear."

"Severus!" Lucius called as his friend stepped through the fireplace. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

The Potions Master brushed off his robes before moving to take the other armchair. "It appears I have a rodent problem."

The blonde raised an eyebrow and crossed one leg over the other. "Go on."

"I stopped in to harvest a few ingredients from the cellar at Spinner's End late this morning."

"And you discovered rodents had moved into your hovel?" Malfoy chuckled. "Imagine my surprise."

With a dark glare, Snape continued his explanation. "The girl accompanied me, and while there, she began screeching about encountering a rat."

"Next you'll be telling me she saw a spider or two."

The younger man rolled his eyes. "There were no obvious signs of an infestation. Furthermore, she claimed it resembled our sniveling compatriot's preferred form."

"You believe her?"

"I tend to, yes. Given that shortly thereafter someone seemed to stalk her inside Humboldt's, I find it highly suspicious."

Frowning, Lucius straightened in his seat. "You think the rat is monitoring you?"

"It has crossed my mind."

The pureblood wiped his hand over his mouth before rising to pour himself a glass of brandy. "What have you done to address the situation? Hire an exterminator?"

Severus snorted and shook his head. "As appealing as that is, I thought more information was warranted before taking more drastic measures. I've set a few traps in case the rat is still inside the house. As to what manner of vermin she encountered in the shop, I cannot say. Your cousin, Laria, watched him disappear quickly into Knockturn."

"Well, if you're concerned that the Dark Lord may have you under observation, I do not think it likely. If he were to assign a watch, it certainly wouldn't be to that ignoramus. And the rat doesn't have the courage to take it on without prompting." Lucius took a sip and then tilted his head. "Perhaps, though, someone else is providing the cheese in this case."

"Your sister-in-law springs to mind."

Malfoy scowled. "Yes, she is the most likely suspect, isn't she? She's always attempting to keep tabs on you. Perhaps she's jealous of the liberties your child bride is allowed to take."

"Do not even suggest such things," Snape snarled, pushing out of his chair. "You'll keep your ears open?"

Nodding, the blonde set aside his tumbler. "In the meantime, what shall you do?"

"If it was the rat, the original wards will prevent him from shedding his Animagus form. I modified them today to ensure nothing with a heartbeat can leave the premises and to place protection spells on the contents of my house. If he's still there, he won't be able to gnaw or tear his way into anything or transform, which means he cannot use his magic."

"Which means he can't answer summons," Lucius stated with an appreciative grin.

"Indeed."

"And if he scampered off?"

Severus shrugged. "His nosiness will get the better of him. He'll return, squeeze his way in through whatever loophole he found in the wards, and then find himself unable to escape. In a few days, I'll check to see what I've caught."

"The Dark Lord underestimates your brilliance, I say. And the other one? It wouldn't be out of the question for her to lure some other desperate soul to do her bidding."

"Or to don a disguise and do it herself," the professor grumbled. "I do not know if she means to simply monitor, or if she seeks to do damage. Either way, I cannot allow the girl to leave the castle without my accompanying her."

"Perhaps, then, she merely hopes to torture you," Malfoy replied, standing.

Snape sighed. "That goes without saying."

After a quiet Sunday spent reading and marking papers away from the eyes of gossiping students and staff, Monday morning dawned far too early for the couple.

Uncertain as to what might appear in the morning paper regarding their sojourn to London – and what it might prompt her Housemates to insinuate – Hermione opted to follow her silent husband up to the Head Table. Quietly greeting the already present staff members, she flashed a grin at a stone-faced Snape when he pulled out her chair for her. When they both were seated, she placed her hand atop his and leaned closer to whisper, "You could try to look a little less miserable."

Severus took in a deep breath and shook his head.

"Do I need to kiss it and make it better?"

His dark eyes turned to her in a glare, causing her to giggle and sit back in her chair.

"I'm glad I amuse you," he muttered, reaching for the black coffee that finally appeared in front of him. His eyelids closed as he took a languid sip.

She raised an eyebrow as she watched how he savored the strong brew. Aware of several dozen pairs of eyes on her, she returned one hand to squeeze his arm. "Did you not sleep well?"

Lowering his mug, the wizard opened his mouth to respond only to be interrupted by Professor Sprout.

"Oh, don't worry, dear. Men his age just need a bit more rest than they think they do."

"Indeed!" Professor Laizment agreed, before winking. "A small price to pay, however, for the joys of having a new bride."

Snape swung his glowering gaze from Pomona to the new Defense instructor while a blush stole over Hermione's cheeks. Clearing her throat, she reached for the basket of toasted bread and held it out to the Slytherin Head. "Darling, are you hungry?"

Huffing slightly, the wizard took two slices of toast.

"Jam?"

He nodded, continuing to glare over her head.

"Do you want me to do it for you, dear, or are you going to take the jam from me?"

With a grunt, Severus snapped his attention to preparing his breakfast. Exchanging an amused look with Professor McGonagall, Hermione stifled a laugh by reaching for her tea.

Soon the rush of owl wings filled the air with the morning post, and a copy of the Daily Prophet dropped almost in her lap. Finishing her piece of toast, she wiped her hands on her napkin and then unfurled the newspaper. Upon spotting the photograph on the front page, she snorted and shook her head. "Well, it's not awful."

Upon spotting the title of the accompanying article, however, she changed her mind. "Is this what I signed up for? A lifetime of alliteration?"

"What?" her husband questioned, glancing over from the conversation he had been having with Pomona.

Hermione angled the paper so he could see the image of them walking through Diagon Alley. "The headline, though, is nauseating. 'Smiling Snapes Stroll through Saturday Shopping Spree'. Terrible."

Upon hearing a bark of laughter from Minerva's direction, Severus grimaced and set down his coffee.

"Are you severely saddened that my name is sans an 'S'?" she asked, grinning around the corner of the paper. "Oh, stern Severus Snape of Slytherin?"

He gave her an exasperated look. "Do you want me to cancel your subscription? I would be more than happy to spare you the expense."

His wife snickered as she studied the moving photograph once more. "I'm not certain I would classify that as smiling. Smirking Snapes, perhaps. Not quite sneering or snarling, but –"

Frowning, Snape snatched the periodical out of her hands, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it on the floor behind them. "Eat your breakfast."

"Certainly, Severus," she grinned, picking up her fork. Stabbing a piece of fruit, she offered it to him. "Strawberry?"

"Hermione," he cautioned. "Quit it."

"I'll stop…because I don't like seeing you scowl so." Breaking into a laugh, she covered her mouth with her hand. "Sorry. No, that one wasn't intentional… I swear!"

The wizard sighed deeply in an effort to hide his smile. "I hate you."

"Ah ah," she intoned, clutching his arm and leaning into him. "You see, I happen to have it on good authority that you love me. We're soulmates."

Snorting in amusement, Snape shook his head and then dipped his head closer to hers. "You're awfully cheerful for someone who has a detention to serve tonight."

Unconsciously, Hermione's gaze shifted to the other end of the table, where Professor Vector sat with a disapproving look on her face. Exhaling loudly, she withdrew from her husband and returned to her meal. "You, sir, are no fun."

"Seriously," he replied, smirking at her from the corner of his eye.

"Oi, if the two of you are done flirting," Pomona chuckled, "I do need to talk to you, Severus, about what you want done with that plot before it snows."

"You alright?" Ginny asked, glancing to her friend at the supper table. "Monday blues? Or Malfoy ones?"

Hermione sighed and pushed aside her mostly empty plate. "Both."

A glint came to the redhead's eyes. "Ha! 'Mione's got -"

"Don't do it."

" - the Monday Malfoy blues."

Harry snickered from across the table along with a few others who were close enough to hear it.

"Come on," Ginny prompted. "Admit it. That was funny."

Seamus leaned his head into sight. "Better would be 'Mione's in a Monday Malfoy mood."

"Melancholy 'Mione," Dean added.

Groaning, Hermione covered her face. "I should never have teased Severus this morning. I've been hearing this rubbish all day."

"Karma is an awful cow," Ginny agreed. "But at least it was a nice photo? Oh, speaking of Snuggly Wuggly, he's coming your way."

The older girl lowered her hands to glance at her approaching husband. "Yes, he's... escorting me to, erm, detention."

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice as everyone turned to look at her.

"He gave you detention?" Seamus laughed. "Kinky."

Hermione glared at him as she rose from her seat. "No. Vector gave me it because I told Malfoy to bugger off."

The Gryffindor boys all exchanged amused glances as Snape came up behind her. "Professor Vector. I wouldn't give her any further reason to dock you points."

"Hey, as long as they're lost for mouthing off to Malfoy, I'm all for it."

"Don't tempt me, Mr. Thomas," Severus warned before turning away.

"Oh, hey." Seamus playfully smacked Dean's shoulder. "Mouthy 'Mione made Malfoy mad."

Snape made to turn back as the table dissolved into laughter, but Hermione grabbed his elbow. "It's fine. Please, leave it. Besides, if you dilly dally about taking points, I'm going to be late."

Growling under his breath, he accepted her admonishment and swiftly followed her out of the Great Hall. They walked silently through the corridors until reaching the Arithmancy classroom, where Severus took two long strides to open the door for her.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered as she stepped past him. A grimace made its way onto her face upon noticing the bucket and rags sitting at the front of the room.

"Mrs. Snape," Vector called, standing from her desk. "I trust… Professor Snape?"

Surprised, the young witch spun back to see that her husband had entered the classroom.

"Vector," he stated coolly while claiming a seat in the back row.

"Forgive me, but what are you doing?"

Snape shrugged and spread his hands. "Escorting my wife. Since I cannot presume to know how long you intend to keep her for such a… minor indiscretion, I thought it simpler to just wait here rather than traipsing all the way down to my office only to have to make my way back up here."

"But –"

"I have no desire to interfere, Vector," he said with a smug expression. "By all means, pretend I'm not here."

"Very well." The Arithmancy professor stiffened and turned back to her desk. "I'll…erm… just have you write lines, then."

Nodding, Hermione moved toward a desk and flashed a grin over her shoulder. As the wizard quirked an eyebrow in response, she sank into her seat, grateful that at least some of the staff were just as intimidated by her husband as the students were.