A/N: Thank you for your continued interest and reviews!

Chapter 23: It's All Fun and Games

Snape looked up from his desk and sighed at seeing who had entered his office. "Gods, it's you again."

"It is me again! Well-spotted, darling." Tonks dramatically posed against his desk, knocking over his jar of quills in the process.

He picked up the mess with a scowl. "Why are you here?"

"Monthly welfare check," she chirped. "The missus in?"

"You would know better than I, seeing as you're the one tracking her like wild game."

Tonks stuck her tongue out at him, then pushed open the door to their private quarters. "Wotcher, Hermione."

The younger witch, curled up on the sofa, looked up from her reading. "Tonks! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, missy. Why aren't you upstairs psyching up for the big match? The big, bad Dungeon Master hasn't trapped you down here, has he?"

Hermione snorted and shook her head. "No, I asked if we could breakfast in our quarters today. I didn't relish another round of questioning my House loyalties. I may not like Quidditch, but it's not as though I'm about to cheer for Slytherin."

"You're sitting with Mr. Slytherin, though?" Tonks asked, flopping onto the sofa.

"He and Dumbledore thought it best. My friends, not so much."

"Uff, sorry to hear they've got their knickers in a wad. Want me to tag along today?"

The girl's eyes lit up. "Would you?"

"Love to! I haven't been to a match in ages." Tonks slipped out a folded copy of the day's Prophet from her robes. "You got time for a bit of girl gab in the meantime?"

"Sure." Hermione closed her book.

"Advanced Arithmancy?" The Auror craned her neck to read the tiny script on the cover. "On Saturday morning? Good gods, why?"

Hermione frowned. "I'm trying to stay ahead of the material, especially since I can't sit the NEWT."

"Especially?"

"The NEWT would be a more objective measure of my knowledge in the subject, but without it I only have my course grade, which…considering Vector now detests me, I can't afford any mistakes."

"Why would she detest you?" Tonks followed the girl's gaze to the office door. "What? She hates your Snippy Snapey Snipey Bear?"

Hermione giggled but shook her head. "Not exactly."

Eyes widened in delight, the Auror clapped her hands together. "You mean she wants to mash bits with him!"

"Shhh!" The girl flicked her eyes toward Snape's office.

Tonks laughed, then leaned forward. "Wait… you don't suppose the two of them were mincing pies, do you?"

Hermione reddened at the question. "No. He told me not."

"He told you? Well, now! Only one month in and already spilling his dirty sex secrets."

"Hardly! More like spilling what isn't among his –"

Her mouth slammed shut as Snape strode into the room. The two witches watched him enter the lavatory, then burst out giggling. Clutching at each other, they tried to keep quiet but only succeeded in making the other laugh harder. When the bathroom door opened again, they bit down on their lips and stared at the emerging wizard.

Severus rolled his eyes at them. "Oh, don't let me interrupt your idiocy."

"Just having a spot of fun, love." Tonks pulled a grimacing Hermione closer and seductively wrapped an arm and leg over her. "You could join us if you like."

His lip curled in disgust as he swept back toward his office. "I should congratulate you, Nymphadora, on making this a first for me."

"You've never been propositioned by two young, attractive witches at once?" she asked, while Hermione squeaked in mortification.

Severus paused in the doorway. "Until now, I have never relished being able to escape the ridiculousness of my quarters for the sensibility of a staff meeting. Granger, I'll return in an hour to collect you."

As the door slammed shut behind him, his wife hastily fought her way out of the Auror's grasp. "I can't believe you just did that!"

"Ohh, love… your face is Gryffindor red right now," Tonks chuckled, wiping a mirthful tear from her eye. "Sorry! Well…I suppose that answers that question."

Hermione peeked out from beneath her fingers. "What question?"

"Whether or not you've slept with him."

"What? I told you!"

Tonks held up a hand. "I know, sweet. I know you told me the marriage wasn't going to be consummated, but things can happen when you're living in close quarters. Life sometimes imitates art, you know."

"What do you mean?"

The pink-haired woman cracked open her newspaper to the Saturday Society page, where two photos from their anniversary dinner had been printed with the heading 'Steamy Snape Celebration'. "I don't think anyone can look at these photos and believe the two of you aren't sheathing the wand."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Was that not the point?"

"It was." Tonks sat taller in her seat. "You've no idea the magnitude of the shitfit taking place in halls of Grimmauld Place this week. I had to promise Sirius I'd come up here and check you for any undue influence."

"What!"

Tonks smirked. "I didn't say I believed him. Besides, I'd planned to check on you anyway given the nasty rubbish about you being up the duff, but you seemed to have cleared that up."

"Apparently, I have Narcissa Malfoy to thank for that," Hermione grimaced. "She even loaned me her coat since I didn't have anything suitable."

"Eww, Malfoy cooties. Maybe I should check you over after all." When the girl shoved her, she laughed. "I'm kidding! But seriously, what did you say to him here? It looks naughty."

Hermione grinned at the photo of her whispering into Snape's ear. "I told him I had to wee."

Tonks raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Kinky."

Confused, Hermione looked to the older witch. As the light switched on, however, she scowled and rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting."

"Never denied it, love."

Irritated by the young Auror's nattering all the way to the pitch, Severus stopped short of the entrance to the staff stands. "Miss Tonks, as always, it's been a pleasure. I look forward to not seeing you for another month."

Tonks quirked an eyebrow. "You know, I don't think I've quite soaked up enough of your charming wit, Professor."

"You are neither staff nor school governor, and you have not received personal invitation from the Headmaster to accompany us further," he scorned. "The visitors' section is over there."

Seeing the disappointed look on Hermione's face, Tonks crossed her arms. She made to protest but saw the Deputy Headmistress approaching. "Professor McGonagall! Lovely day for Quidditch, isn't it?"

Tightening the ties on her tartan ear flaps, Minerva eyed the trio with interest. "Cold, cloudy, already spitting snow… a lovely day for it, indeed."

"Would you happen to like an escort today?"

"Are you insinuating she's too infirm to climb the stairs without assistance, Nymphadora?" Snape sneered.

Both witches glared at him.

"One more comment like that, young man, and I will assist you down the stairs. At a high rate of speed, mind you." Minerva turned to the Auror. "And which team has your support today?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Tonks turned her hair a deep red with golden highlights. With a smirk, the Gryffindor Head held out her arm. "Allow me to escort you to a seat."

As they walked away, arm in arm, Tonks glanced over her shoulder to once again stick out her tongue at the Potions Master. When she stumbled over the first step, however, Snape snorted in amusement and then stepped aside to allow his wife to precede him up the wooden stairs. "Try not to set anyone on fire this time."

Hermione, having just thought of that incident first year, blanched at the comment. Her stomach was in knots as she followed Tonks down the row for she knew both staff and students were watching her. The only saving grace was that the match itself would hold their attention for a few hours at least. Thankfully, there did not seem to be many glares from the Gryffindor stands since she had donned – much to the annoyance of her husband – her Gryffindor hat, scarf, and gloves.

After the match had commenced, Tonks stretched out in her seat. "So, what're the odds like today?"

"Heavily in favor of Gryffindor," Minerva replied smugly as several nearby staff muttered agreement.

"Well, that's not what I'm used to seeing!" the Auror exclaimed.

Pomona Sprout leaned down from the row behind. "Gryffindor won their last five match-ups and the last three Quidditch Cups."

Tonks whistled her surprise, then glanced at Severus, who was pretending to ignore the conversation. "I remember Slytherin used to be the team to beat!"

"They still are," Minerva chuckled. "They just put up less of a fight these days."

"Good gracious, what happened?"

"Potter happened!" Sprout replied, gesturing toward Harry flying overhead in search of the Snitch.

"With all the rule bending and biased judging that usually accompanies him," Severus muttered, finally acknowledging their conversation. Several pairs of eyes – including his wife's – glared at him, but his swept about the sky, checking on each of his players. His hand tensed as a Bludger narrowly missed Jordan Vaisey again. Given the serious concussion the boy had suffered at the start of the previous season, he was half convinced Peakes had intentionally aimed the Bludger for his head.

Beside him, Hermione expelled a nervous breath as Ron prevented Slytherin from scoring. Though it was always nerve-wracking watching her friends racing about at breakneck speeds, dodging projectiles and other players, it was an entirely different experience surrounded by the staff than it was surrounded by her screaming Housemates. She could remain seated, for one, which made her feel more grounded. She also felt more like a spectator and less involved in the match, which meant her mind did wander at times.

Mostly it wandered in the direction of the brooding man beside her. His moods oscillated with little warning, and Hermione had yet to discern any patterns. Despite the start of the day, she had enjoyed their anniversary outing and thought they had made progress. Progress toward what, she was not sure, but he had opened up the tiniest bit with her at dinner. Yet, in the days since then, he had withdrawn into more of the Snape with which she was familiar. Apart from mealtimes, she had scarcely seen him for more than a few minutes at a time.

"You're rather quiet, Hermione."

The young witch sighed and smiled at Tonks. "Quidditch makes me nervous."

That, and the thought of shouting in front of her professors made her uncomfortable.

"For the love of Merlin!" McGonagall shouted. "That was a FOUL, ROLANDA! You have a bloody whistle! USE IT!"

Severus cracked a smirk but refrained from pointing out that Hooch had already overlooked two blatant fouls by the Gryffindor team.

"Speaking of foul," Tonks whispered, leaning into Hermione and subtly nodding in the direction of the other staff stands. "Vector is eyeing you something fierce."

"Is that supposed to make me feel less uncomfortable?"

The Auror snickered. "Isn't that more of a soul mate's responsibility?"

Hermione hesitantly glanced at her husband, whose attention was fully captured by the match. After several minute's contemplation, she moved so that her leg touched his. His eyes flashed to her only briefly before returning to the air. Sometime later, however, he did lean back to minimize the distance between them.

Eventually, Ginny Weasley managed to fool the Slytherin Keeper and sent the Quaffle cleanly through the third hoop to put up the first points of the match. Since McGonagall stood to clap, Tonks yanked Hermione to her feet to join in with the cheering from the majority of students.

When they reclaimed their seats, Hermione bumped into her husband's shoulder. Noticing the deep frown on his face, she mumbled an apology and resolved herself to be more careful lest she aggravate him further. She doubted he was a graceful loser, and irking him more than necessary might mean a miserable night in their quarters.

Oblivious to her turmoil, Snape's current irritation had in truth been caused by the interactions amongst his players. Rupert Urquhart, the team captain, and Vincent Crabbe had both yelled at Mariah Bletchley for having missed the shot despite her successful defense of eight previous attempts on goal. Normally he expected his team to sort out their own problems, but he was concerned that Miss Bletchley, being both the youngest and sole female player, might not receive the support she deserved from all her teammates.

Uncertain as to what he could do without causing more problems for Miss Bletchley, Severus decided it would probably be best to haul in Draco and ensure he, at least, was not bullying the talented third year. Though he supported Draco in his decision to focus on his studies and Prefect duties rather than accept the Quidditch Captainship, he regretted having to name the bull-headed Urquhart to the role the previous year. If he could contrive a reason to remove the title, perhaps Zabini would step up to the task.

Severus was distracted from contemplating the ethics of framing his own student by Minerva's excited cry as the Quaffle once again sailed through a Slytherin hoop. Scowling, he pondered what it would take to persuade the resident poltergeist to re-decorate the Transfiguration classroom without taking credit for it.

Before long, Slytherin had put its own points on the board, and Snape relaxed as his Chasers settled down.

As the day dragged on, the wind picked up and snow began to fall. Shivering, Hermione was grateful for the surprising amount of warmth emitted by her husband and subtly shifted closer to him.

Feeling watched, Severus looked away from the match and met a pointed stare from Tonks. She flicked her eyes to Hermione, which prompted him to do the same. Noting her current state of distress, he opened his mouth to suggest she use a warming charm but paused as he entertained an amusing idea. Silently, he slipped off his scarf and draped it about her shoulders.

Though she was at first surprised by the action, Hermione closed her eyes in appreciation. It was clear the scarf was embedded with a warming charm similar to the bedcovers he had gifted her. With a soft sigh, she balled her hands in the ends of the warm fabric and wrapped it tighter around her.

Smirking, Snape returned his gaze to the sky. Despite having given up his primary heat source, he hardly noticed the bite of the wind. For the first time ever, he gleefully anticipated Gryffindor scoring another goal. When that finally occurred several minutes later, he schooled his expression to a frown.

"Seems to be a bit one-sided today, doesn't – Severus Snape!" Minerva looked over to gloat, only to sputter loudly at seeing Hermione sporting Slytherin colors.

The wizard nonchalantly stretched his spine before glancing at his colleague. "My wife was cold, Minerva."

"You rat-faced snake!"

"Would you prefer I let her freeze?"

Glaring, the Deputy Headmistress drew her wand, flicking it toward the offending article. The scarf flashed maroon and gold but quickly reverted to Slytherin colors. A second later, the elder witch swore aloud when her own scarf became green and silver.

Severus chuckled, while Tonks and Professor Sprout cackled loudly. Hiding a smirk against her husband's shoulder, Hermione sheepishly pulled his scarf off her shoulders and scrunched it up in her lap.

After several attempts to fix her scarf to no avail, Minerva tossed it down in disgust. "If that's permanent, you bastard, you're buying me a new one. Weasley, pay attention!"

As a cheer roared up from the Slytherin sections, Hermione risked a glance toward the Gryffindor hoops and then to the hissing Gryffindor stands. With a sigh, she leaned toward Tonks. "I'm going to pay for this later."

"True enough," the Auror agreed. "Although… you've wiped the self-satisfied smirk right off the bitch's face."

Despite the distance, the frown on Vector's face was unmistakable. Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll probably pay for that, too."

"I can hex her for you if you need."

The witch giggled at the prospect. "I'll let you know."

"Deal." Tonks shook her hand quick, then gestured in Snape's direction. "Although, I'd say the mister owes you big."

Hermione snorted and shook her head, doubting Snape would ever see it that way.

As the weather worsened and visibility decreased, she dared enough to wrap the Slytherin scarf low around her arms like a shawl. Shortly thereafter, Tonks nudged her on the arm. "The mister looks a wee bit concerned."

Hermione whipped her head around and followed her husband's intense gaze. Through the whirling snow, she managed to make out a dark shape hurtling through the air. Squinting, she tried to determine which Seeker it was who must have caught sight of the Snitch. "Is that Harry?"

Severus shook his head and leaned forward. It did not sit well with him that the Gryffindor Beaters had changed course, allowing a Slytherin Chaser to carry on undeterred with the Quaffle.

"There's Harry," she muttered as a second player streaked after the first. "Come on, Harry. Come on, come on, come on. I want to go back inside where it's warm. Just beat Malfoy to –"

Without warning, Snape lurched out of his seat, knocking his young wife off-kilter. Hermione grabbed hold of Tonks to keep her seat and grumpily looked up in time to see one Bludger collide with the shape she assumed was Malfoy. Before she could even wince in sympathy, the second Bludger found the same target as the first.

The collective gasp rising from the stands drowned out Madam Hooch's whistle as Draco Malfoy slipped off his broom and plummeted from the sky.

"Arresto momentum!" Severus hissed, drawing his wand faster than any of the other members of staff. When Draco's body had slowly drifted down to the pitch, he barked at Hermione to stay with Tonks and rushed out of the stands.

"Peakes, Coote – my office, now," McGonagall demanded, storming past the returning Gryffindor team. Upon entering the castle, she yanked off her tartan cap and shoved it in the pocket along with her still-emerald scarf.

The two Gryffindor Beaters shared a glum look with each other before trudging up the steps behind her.

"You know if we'd won, they wouldn't even be in trouble," Ginny grumbled.

"It's not like the ferret didn't deserve it," Ron added.

Harry crossly looked about at his remaining teammates. "I'd have caught the Snitch if they hadn't bothered. Malfoy only caught it because the Bludger knocked him into it."

"To be fair, though, Malfoy had a sizeable lead on you," Tonks commented from the spot where she and Hermione had chosen to wait. When the sopping wet Quidditch players – and a number of their fans – all glared at her, she snickered and shrugged her shoulder. "Hey, I'm a Hufflepuff turned Auror. Honesty's kinda my thing."

"I would've had him," Harry protested.

Ron tossed his dripping robes to the floor. "What are you doing here, Mrs. Snape? Thought you'd be celebrating in the dungeons with your new House."

Hermione gaped at him. "I waited here for you all because I support you, win or lose! I was cheering for you, you know."

"Certainly looks like it, doesn't it?" Ron muttered, snatching the Slytherin scarf from her hands.

"Hey!" Hermione grabbed at it. "Give it back!"

"Awfully attached to it, hmm?" He balled it up and tossed it to Seamus, who laughed and tossed it to Harry.

Hermione shoved at him. "Because it isn't mine, you jerk. Severus left it in the stands."

A slight hissing sound erupted from the small crowd as a number of them repeated "Severus" under their breaths.

"Guys, knock it off," Ginny groused. "Let Hermione be. It's not her fault Ferret-Face got lucky."

"Funny how we only started losing after you switched sides," Ron snarled.

"You weren't losing at all until the Snitch was caught," Hermione pointed out.

"Oi!" Tonks shouted, stepping into the fray. She snapped her fingers at Harry, who handed over the scarf, then gave it back to Hermione. "I think it's time for the children to stop their tantrum and go get washed up for supper. Hop to!"

The Gryffindor Quidditch team grumbled as they moved up the staircase, followed by the rest of the Gryffindor students who had been loitering. Lavender paused a moment and gave her former roommate a cheeky grin. "You know… everything aside, you look good in green."

Hermione's face flushed red as she twisted her hands in Snape's scarf. Stiffly, she turned away and made for the descending staircase. Tonks shadowed behind her, waiting until they were down a full flight of stairs to ask if the girl was alright.

"Fine." Hermione blinked rapidly as she pulled off all of her red and gold outerwear.

"They're juveniles pouting after a tough loss to their great rivals," Tonks continued. "They'll settle down after a bit."

The younger witch nodded twice but remained silent until reaching her husband's office. She chucked his scarf at his desk, uncaring as to whether or not it landed in an inkpot, and pushed into their living quarters.

Tonks leaned against the door, eyeing her carefully. "I'm on duty tonight, but I can probably stay long enough to escort you back upstairs for supper."

Hermione smiled at her in gratitude but shook her head. "I'm going to eat in here unless Severus requests I go upstairs with him."

"He might not be back for a while if he's waiting in the infirmary for Malfoy, Jr. to be back amongst the conscious."

The teen witch flopped on the couch. "He probably will. That seems like something a godfather would do."

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "Godfather?"

"That's why I'm stuck being chaperoned by the prat."

"Uff. Well, silver lining: I'd say you'll have a couple days' reprieve."

With a snort, Hermione looked over at the Auror. "It did look pretty bad. Dare I hope for a week?"

"Something tells me Madam Pomfrey will have him upright by then."

"Damn."

"Well, that's about all we can do for the time being," Madam Pomfrey declared. "I don't often see this one in for Quidditch injuries. Final year, and he comes in with the worst of the lot."

"He was closing in on the Snitch," Severus explained. "I doubt he saw them coming in time to react."

The matron tutted quietly in disapproval and set off for her office to fill out an inventory request.

With a deep sigh, Severus smoothed out a few wrinkles in the bed covers, then perched on a chair to wait for Poppy. He watched his godson's chest rise and fall for a few minutes until a soft moan drew his attention upward.

Wincing, Draco blinked several times. "Uncle Sev? Mmmph. Head hurts."

A flicker of a smile appeared on Snape's face. He recalled the boy making a similar comment to him thirteen years prior after a much less harrowing fall from a broom. "Tends to do that when it collides with a Bludger."

The blond groaned loudly and tried to touch his head. He frowned when only one hand managed the task. The boy's eyes then widened in shock. "Lllost my armmm?"

Severus swallowed back a laugh. The pain potions were clearly affecting the boy's clarity of thought and speech.

"Only the use of it temporarily, Mr. Malfoy," Pomfrey explained, handing a list to Snape as she returned. "In a few days, it'll be good as new, and we can get you out of that sling."

"Mmmph," Draco sighed, lolling his head back toward Snape. "Uncle Sev… tell Harper… not to let Potter get to him?"

Severus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Can't play Sat'day if I'm here."

Snape sat forward and flicked a nervous glance at Poppy. "It is Saturday, Draco. You don't recall the match today?"

Draco shook his head and immediately regretted it.

"What is the last thing you do remember?"

"Walking to practice," he replied, closing his eyes. "How'd we do?"

Severus cracked a smirk. "Despite their best efforts to detach your head from your spinal column –"

"Yeah, despy that," Draco slurred, earning an amused glance from the Matron.

"—You did manage to catch the Snitch… albeit with your face."

A slow smile spread across the young wizard's face. "Worth it."

"Rest, Draco." Snape squeezed the boy's uninjured shoulder before looking to Madam Pomfrey.

The Healer smiled at him in sympathy. "He should be better soon, but I'll keep a close eye on him for a few days."

Severus nodded in gratitude but was interrupted by the infirmary doors flying open. A harried looking Narcissa strode forward, asking after her son.

The boy in question groaned at the sound of her voice. "Gods, you sent for Mum?"

The Slytherin Head snorted under his breath. "If I didn't, I would soon be joining you in this little hospital stay."

Draco grumbled but closed his eyes again.

"Oh, Severus!" Narcissa threw her arms around the man in a tight embrace. "Thank you for sending word. How is he?"

Snape rolled his eyes as the witch ignored his response, sweeping over to Draco's cot and questioning Poppy instead. With one last glance at his godson, he exited the infirmary to find a student hovering just beyond the doors. "Miss Greengrass. I distinctly recall dismissing everyone with threat of detention."

"I…I know, sir. I apologize," Daphne twisted her gloves. "Professor, I saw Lady Malfoy. Is Draco… will he be alright?"

Severus tightened his mouth but nodded. "He'll need some time to recover, but I'm certain Madam Pomfrey will have him back to rights."

The young witch eyed the hospital doors. Thanking him, she made her way toward the Great Hall, passing Lucius Malfoy with a polite nod.

"Severus." The pureblood wizard gestured toward the retreating girl. "Looking to expand your horizons?"

Snape glared at his friend. "One teenage witch has caused me more than enough problems."

"Pity. This one seems far more agreeable than that wife of yours."

The professor folded his arms in disapproval. "Miss Greengrass seems far more vested in your son's well-being than mine."

"Does she now?" Lucius appraised the girl's backside before it disappeared from view. "Certainly more appealing than Perseus Parkinson's eldest. How many OWLs?"

"Ten."

"Potions marks?"

"She outscored Draco by three points on the last exam."

Pursing his lips in thought, Lucius spun his walking stick within his hand. "Greengrass, you say? Perhaps it's worth a chat with Galen. He might consider contributing to his niece's dowry for the sake of elevating the family."

Severus rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Perhaps you might consider having a chat with your son first?"

With a smirk, the pureblood wizard tapped Snape's arm with his walking stick before moving into the Hospital Wing.

Hearing a door opening, Hermione scrambled up from her bed and mumbled an apology to Crookshanks for disturbing his snooze. She stepped through the tapestry just in time to see the door to the Slytherin corridor shut with a click.

The young witch let out a huff and moved to perch on the arm of the sofa. Folding her arms to her chest, she checked the clock to confirm it had been hours since she had last seen her husband.

It took another half hour for Severus to reappear in their quarters, and he immediately strode into the restroom.

Hermione stared at the closed door in disbelief. Am I invisible?

"Hey –" She frowned when he stepped out and moved toward his bedroom without acknowledging her. Irritated, she followed him. "Severus!"

Snape whirled about at his name, resulting in his colliding awkwardly with his wife. "What?"

"I…" Hermione stumbled momentarily, catching a faint whiff of perfume. Her stomach twisted strangely upon recognizing it smelled similar to the coat she had unwillingly borrowed from Narcissa Malfoy. "Erm, how is… Malfoy?"

His eyes narrowed, suspicious of her interest. "He'll live."

"Is he still in hospital?" she asked as he continued into his bedroom.

"Yes."

"How long will he be there?"

Severus tossed his winter cloak on the bed. "However long Madam Pomfrey deems necessary."

The witch sighed and leaned against the door frame. "I thought I heard you return earlier."

"I needed to check on the dormitory," he replied, unfastening his teaching robes.

"Are you hungry? I can put in an order to the kitchens."

"I stopped in at the Great Hall."

"Oh." Hermione felt rather stupid for having waited to eat with him.

"Is there something you need?" Snape questioned absently as he checked his pockets.

His wife frowned and crossed her arms. "Is there something you need?"

"What?"

"You seem to be searching for something."

With a snarl, Severus snatched up his cloak and tore through the pockets until he produced the list Poppy had given him. He glanced over it, rubbed his forehead, then strode past her into the sitting room.

"Would you just look at me!" Hermione snapped, punching her fist downward.

The wizard turned around and stared at her. "Excuse me?"

She let out a sharp puff of air and refolded her arms. "Did I do something wrong?"

His eyes tightened at the question. "What?"

"You're obviously upset with me, and I'd like to know why."

Severus shook his head in confusion. "Obviously you know something I don't because I wasn't aware I was upset with you. Should I be?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth in disbelief. "You've been avoiding me for days!

"What the devil are you talking about?" he grumbled before gesturing in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. "I spent how many hours with you today?"

"Because we were in public and you had to," she criticized. "But when we're alone, you seem to find everything else to do to avoid talking to me. I don't understand what I've done. If it's because I kissed you, I didn't mean to and – "

"Don't flatter yourself, Miss Granger."

Hermione reared back. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Snape scowled and stepped closer. "I am not busying myself because of you. I am busy. I teach twenty-six class periods a week, all of which require additional time for planning, prepping, and grading. I am solely responsible for keeping the school infirmary stocked, which means I have a running list of potions to brew and ingredients to either harvest or order. I have whole staff meetings, I have Heads of House meetings, House meetings, office hours, and rounds. Occasionally, I have detentions to oversee or students to counsel. This is my life, Granger, and I haven't even accounted for my duties to the Order.

"This," he gestured back and forth between several of the doors in their quarters, "is normal. What isn't normal, what I don't do is go out for lavish meals, or spend all day shopping, or track down runaway brides. And when I do have to do that, it's at the expense of everything else. So, no. I don't have time to sit and chat with you just now. I need to begin brewing to replenish the infirmary stores after your compatriots decided to take up skull-crushing this afternoon."

Wide-eyed, Hermione watched her snarling husband disappear through the door leading down to his laboratory. As the door slammed shut, her scalp tingled and eyes stung with shame. She hardly had time to comprehend the level of her humiliation before the door popped open again.

"Right on fucking cue," Severus grumbled, storming past her into his bedroom. He returned a moment later with his Death Eater robes in hand. "Floo the Headmaster and calmly tell him I've gone out on his errand. Say exactly that. Nothing else."

"Okay," his wife whispered, steadying herself on the sofa.

He paused in the doorway, then looked back at her. "Do not leave these quarters, do not open the doors to anyone until I have returned."

Hermione swallowed nervously, noting the seriousness of both his tone and stare. Upon his exit, she took in a deep breath, then stumbled over to the fireplace. Her hands shook enough that she nearly spilled the Floo powder, and she gripped the rug while kneeling in front of the green flames. "Headmaster?!"

Dumbledore's head appeared in the fireplace. "Madam Snape! What can I do for you this evening, my dear girl?"

"I just…" She cleared her throat. "I called to tell you that Severus has gone out on your errand."

"Oh, I see. Thank you for informing me. I look forward to speaking with him on his return. Good evening, Madam Snape."

As the connection vanished, Hermione scooted backward until she hit the couch. Wrapping her arms about her legs, she rested her chin on her knees. Snape being summoned was a common enough occurrence that neither he nor Dumbledore seemed particularly concerned about his well-being. However, that knowledge did nothing to quell the anxious churning of her gut.

Though she had already spent hours on her own that evening, Hermione suddenly felt even more alone.