12 years later, August 2010

Severus Snape was sat at his ebony desk, finalising his invoice to St. Mungo's. A glance to his right showed the ocean, calm today, and virtually no breeze, a good sign for tomorrow. He stretched his legs out and looked around the room he loved so much. It was Hermione's favourite room too, they had decorated it together, bit by bit. It was supposed to be the master bedroom, but as it was the largest room in the house, it had been too perfect not to turn into a study for them both. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, custom made around the windows to form two window seats. Hermione's oak desk was against his so they faced each other, hers meticulously organised, his on the messier side. On the far wall in a nook stood a smaller desk with a muggle computer, Hermione had found a way to make muggle technology work alongside magic, and their house was a blend of both. Severus used the computer occasionally, but he preferred the tv downstairs and the dishwasher. It wouldn't be long now until Hermione was home from work, she was currently working on writing protection for muggleborns and other marginalised groups into wizarding law and was well on her way to becoming Minister for Magic. Severus was almost unbearably proud of her, she was achieving everything she had wanted and more, and was an absolutely resounding force for good. He took life at a slower pace these days, and happily so. The Rise and Fall of Tom Riddle had been an international best seller, and he'd followed it up with two more books, one focusing entirely on the first wizarding war, and another on the second, and was well on his way to finishing a complete series of Defence textbooks as well. To his surprise, he found that he immensely enjoyed writing, and was far better at educating in this way. He hoped to write some books for perfecting potions soon, and a spell book with all his own creations … he had a few ideas for new ones he wanted to experiment with when he had the time. The rest of his time was taken up with brewing for Hogwarts, the apothecary and St. Mungo's, though he only supplied the latter two with the more complex potions these days. He also travelled sometimes to deliver lectures on his books and on Defence Against the Dark Arts, but only when Hermione was free to travel with him. They had been forced to spend so much time apart in the early days that they only parted now if it was absolutely necessary. He had a few lectures coming up quite soon, but these were only local, for trainee Healers about certain types of Dark spell damage. Severus was completely his own boss now, and he liked to be at home when Hermione finished work, he liked having the time to support her in any way he could, and this choice and freedom was still something he valued and cherished. Wizarding society as a whole was accepting of him these days, and most viewed him as the hero Hermione had always insisted he was. He wasn't comfortable with that word, but being safe and free was certainly worth a little embarrassment. His relationship with Hermione had been common knowledge for several years now, and though there had been a few articles published about it initially, the interest hadn't lasted long. To the world, they were two war veterans who had found solace in each other, that it happened long before the world knew was no one's business but their own.

Hermione had been right all those years ago when she'd told him it was only the beginning, although, all things considered, it hadn't exactly been the beginning they were hoping for. They'd arrived in Australia after taking several international portkeys (Hermione went first, then waited for him in Turkey), got to the lodge where they were staying, settled in, and then Severus had abruptly fallen apart. Even now, looking back, he still wasn't exactly sure what had happened or what had caused it. Hermione said it was probably years of suppressed trauma coming out once it was all finally over and some sort of PTSD. That first evening, he had had a panic attack so severe, Hermione had laid him on the floor, placed his hands on his midsection so he could feel the rise and fall of his lungs, and talked to him softly for almost an hour before it had lessened. That had been their life for several weeks. Even at night, he would wake screaming or sobbing from a nightmare, and feel gentle arms around him, holding him, stroking him in his delirium and terror, whispering to him over and over again that he was safe, and he was going to be okay. Their days were broken up by panic attacks, and he hadn't been able to leave the house at all, could barely stand it when Hermione did. For a while, they had remained in their lodge almost entirely, he worked on the book when he could and she read up on muggle psychology, to try and help him. It had taken him a couple of weeks to realise he could call for her when the attacks came, and she would always be by his side in an instant, never angry, never mocking, just there, caring and considerate. She would hold his hand, rub his shoulders and arms, or simply sit with him until he felt better, she always seemed to sense what he needed. The guilt had been awful in those days, guilt that he was ruining everything, destroying their after, and he wondered, over and over again, at what point Hermione would give up on him, broken wreck that he was, and walk away. He remembers one night, clearer than any other, when he had woken, once again shaking and sweating from the horrors of his dreams, but for once, Hermione was still asleep, so he had snuck away to the bathroom, afraid that yet another awful day followed by another awful night would finally drive her away. He had sat in the corner, knees drawn to his chest, the weight of the world and all his misdeeds crushing in on him and pushing against his chest until he could barely breathe. Then the door had banged open, and Hermione had appeared, her eyes still bleary from sleep. She'd dropped to the floor by his side and pulled him into her arms.

"Feel the ground beneath you, Severus," she'd whispered, "curl your toes, wiggle your bum, that's it. Listen to me, listen to my breathing... Can you smell the sea, darling? You're safe here, everything's okay, you'll get through this."

She always whispered sweet nonsense to him whenever an attack happened, but that night it had been different, he could tell from her voice that she was crying, and what he was doing to her broke his heart.

"Why didn't you wake me?" She whispered as he'd begun to calm.

"Because I didn't want to. I'm ruining everything. I am so, so sorry-"

"Don't you dare be sorry." The anger in her voice had startled him more than anything before. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Severus. Voldemort should be sorry, Dumbledore should be sorry, your parents should be sorry, the marauders should be sorry and so should every other miserable sod who hurt you or let you down. But you, Severus, have nothing to be sorry for."

And he'd sat there, utterly speechless as she'd held him tightly, as she'd taken him back to bed, supporting him heavily, as she'd pulled him into her arms, holding him as he trembled, and gently stroked his back until he'd fallen asleep once more.

With time, he had begun to recover, the episodes became less frequent, and Hermione's constant company and patience made him feel safe in ways he had never imagined. There had been several occasions, both in those early months and throughout the years, when he would begin to feel himself slipping under. Memories would flash before him, faces of people dead and gone, people he had seen die, people who had hurt him, but before he was fully submerged, Hermione would appear. Sometimes hugging him from behind, sometimes slipping onto his lap to lace her arms around his neck, sometimes just taking his hand, and she would help him back. There were times when she would talk to him, or would simply be there, and other times, when she would sing, her voice tuneless and loud, usually making him smile. Since he had reluctantly let her into his life, she had saved him, a thousand times over.

It had been about two months into his banishment that Hermione had gone to restore her parents' memories, and she had returned a few hours later, sobbing uncontrollably. Mr and Mrs Granger had been furious and terrified over what their daughter had done to them, and their life as Mr and Mrs Wilkins felt no less real to them than their life before. Hermione had undoubtedly saved their lives, but in doing so had damaged their relationship terribly. It had taken them many years to patch things up, and they had remained in Australia, though he and Hermione now visited twice a year. Hermione's pain and distress had drawn Severus away from his own issues, and they had spent several weeks trying to cheer one another up, as the grief and pain of the war finally hit them both in waves that seemed endless. Hermione spent several weeks repeatedly visiting her parents before they asked her to stop coming, and a few days later she had decided that they should leave Australia. They went to New Zealand next, and settled there for a little while, Hermione getting a job at a local library, and Severus selling potions to the apothecary. They had travelled around the island, but then Severus had begun suffering from mood swings he couldn't understand or control, periods of extreme irritability and outbursts of anger, and would mindlessly pick fights over everything and nothing, hating himself for it all the while. Most of the time, Hermione would simply ignore it, or walk out the room if he'd been particularly unpleasant, but there was one night where things had somehow gotten out of hand. Hermione had arrived home late from work, and Severus had been so anxious about this tardiness that he'd burnt the dinner, he'd snapped at her, she'd snapped back, which was so unusual for her it had pushed his temper over the edge. He didn't remember exactly what he'd said, but he knew it had involved her parents, and the betrayal on her face as she'd turned white, ashen, was something he knew he would never forget. She'd turned on her heel and walked out the apartment without a word, slamming the door behind her, and he had shattered into a million pieces. When she'd returned a few hours later, it was to find him shaking and sweating on the floor, and he'd begged for her forgiveness on his knees. To this day, he could still recall the shock he'd felt when she had dropped to her floor beside him, dragged him into her arms and told him she would never leave him. She'd held onto him tightly, whispering soothing words in his ear, promising not to walk out on him again. And she hadn't, it was very rare that they argued, but when they did, if Hermione wanted space, she would send Severus out for a walk instead, and it always made him love her that bit more, for not wanting him to suffer, even when she was angry with him.

"I told you I would forgive you when you messed up, Severus." She'd whispered that night, once he was calm enough for them to talk. "I would never walk out and not return. I'm sorry you were so scared."

There was a time, not so long before that, that he would have denied being scared, denied the way he needed her, but instead, he embraced that vulnerability, because she had returned to him, because there was no point denying the sun.

"I wouldn't have blamed you, if you had." His voice had been frayed, weak to his own ears. "You deserve so much more than this, I should have never said that-"

"No you shouldn't," Hermione had interrupted, "I know you can't help any of this, and this anger you have is out of your control just as much as the attacks, but you can help what you say, and what you said hurt, Severus, it really hurt. And I don't deserve that. But that doesn't mean I don't want to be with you. You've apologised, and you obviously mean it, so we'll move on. This is just a bad bit, it will get better, neither of us are at our best right now, but we will heal. We have all the time in the world."

That night they had fallen into bed, exhausted, but Severus hadn't been able to sleep, hadn't been able to switch off, hadn't been able to believe in his forgiveness or turn away from the flashes of his past that threatened to drown him. But Hermione had pressed herself against his back, nuzzling into his neck, holding him as he shook and shook…

"Sorry..." He'd choked out, as his body jerked and trembled out of his control.

"Shhh," she'd whispered, "it's alright, you're okay, you're safe, Severus. You'll get through this, we both will."

"Together?" The all-important question, torn from his mouth between silent, choked sobs.

"Yes, together, always together."

And for whatever reason, things had started to get gradually better from there. He still had bad days, of course, and sometimes Hermione did too, and in a way, this helped Severus to heal. Helping her saved him too. They had spent a quiet Christmas and New Years in New Zealand, and explored the island with a new found enthusiasm. From there, they had travelled to Vietnam, then Thailand, India, Turkey and Greece. It was all a bit of a shock to the system for Severus, who had never been abroad, but Hermione was quick to adjust and always planned things out perfectly. His understanding of Latin had proven useful in Europe, and after Greece they had visited Italy, Croatia, Germany and finally spent the last two months in France. And it was in France that they had truly had the holiday they always dreamed of, the whole thing was perfect, not a single bad day was had, and Paris became so special to them that they went back every year on the anniversary of Severus' banishment. There was a photo of them grinning under the Eiffel Tower on the mantlepiece, slightly awkward, cliché, and one of Severus' most prized possessions.

They had arrived back home to much excitement, most of Hermione's friends seemed to know where she had been and with who, and were simply pleased to have their friend nearby again, and Poppy and Minerva had wanted to see them both as soon as possible. There had been a letter waiting for them at Hermione's home from her parents, instructing her to sell the house and keep a percentage. It had upset her, but they had sold Spinners End at the same time and used the money to buy a place of their own. They had enough money these days to own a far larger house, but they didn't need it, and both adored their home wholeheartedly. It was somewhere between a farm house and a cottage, with exposed wood and stone throughout, they had furnished it with predominantly dark wood, and decorated it with potions bottles, plants, books and magical charts, Hermione called it 'witchy' which Severus didn't really understand. They had open fireplaces, a large lounge that opened onto the back porch and garden beyond, and an outbuilding which they had converted into a potions lab after Hermione got fed up with Severus using the dining room. The garden was low maintenance, but there was a large area dedicated to muggle and magical plants (carefully warded) which was Severus' pride and joy, he even grew a lot of the food they ate. The house was located high up, it wasn't quite on a cliff, but many referred to it as such, there was a trail from their back garden that led down to the beach below, and a short walk from their front door to a forest. There were other houses in the local village about a mile away, but theirs was remote and secluded, so they had plenty of privacy. The house had been rather run down when they'd purchased it, but it had been easy enough to do up, and they'd used magic to reinforce the house too. In the winter the winds were very strong, and occasionally the waves were incredibly high, but it was perfectly safe, and they both enjoyed cosy winter evenings by the fireplace, listening to the wind and the rain and simply enjoying being together. That Severus had such a beautiful and happy home was something that gave him immense pride and satisfaction. They weren't married for the simple reason that they hadn't got around to it yet. Severus had asked a few years ago, hands trembling, desperately afraid even though he knew full well that Hermione wanted to be with him forever. They both proudly wore golden bands on their left ring fingers, and surely they would find the time to make it official soon enough.

Hermione's friends and their various offspring would all be arriving tomorrow morning. It was something of a biannual tradition these days – they invaded at least once in the summer to spend the day at the beach, and at least once in the autumn to play in the leaves and collect conkers. Over the years, he had slowly come to tolerate, and eventually even quite like some of Hermione's friends. The fact that they'd never made an issue of the relationship – at least that he was aware of - had undoubtedly worked in their favour. Neville had perhaps been the hardest to get along with, for the simple reason that even years after the war he was still so obviously terrified of Severus. One winter, Severus had been so frustrated by Neville's inability to hold any sort of a conversation that he'd snapped 'For God's sake Longbottom, get a hold of yourself. You survived torture by the Dark Lord himself and singlehandedly destroyed a horcrux – I am hardly the worst thing you've faced!' The room had gone very, very silent, and then Neville had laughed, shaken his hand, and asked his advice on mandrake fertilizer. Things had been easier since then. Even Harry, to Severus' surprise, could be quite amiable company, they had discussed Lily Potter only once, a few years after Severus' banishment. Harry had allowed Severus to share only that which he was comfortable sharing, had not asked him personal questions, and had shaken his hand and thanked him with such deep sincerity and gratitude that it was hard to begrudge him the time. Their relationship was close to friendly, although Ginerva's temperament, humour and edge was closer to his own, and the two of them got on well. When they had arrived on his doorstep 4 years ago and asked him and Hermione to be godparents to their second son, Severus had been surprised to find himself … pleased. Hermione was very close to both of them, they could have easily asked her to be godmother without including Severus, but they had wanted him to take this important place in their son's life, and he had tried his upmost in the years since to form a good relationship with the boy, and genuinely didn't mind spending time with him - as long as it wasn't for too long. Of course, Harry had abruptly ruined the moment when he had declared he wanted to name the poor child 'Albus Severus'. Why you would want to give such a name to an innocent boy was beyond him, and when he had expressed these concerns to Harry, he had simply stated that he wanted to honour two of the people he owed the most to. And there was little Severus' could say to that. He wasn't exactly sure what Harry felt he owed him, but Hermione had hugged him very tightly after they had left, and Severus had made a silent vow to himself to try and do right by this next Potter. In Severus' opinion, Harry was appalling at naming children, but it wasn't really his business, and the children themselves weren't total brats, which was a lot. Hermione had been worried that the youngest of their brood being called Lily would upset him, but it hadn't, not really, and the girl was such a blend of Harry and Ginerva that it was hard not to consider her her own person, rather than just a reminder of her namesake.

Ginerva and Luna had remained very close, and Severus found Luna's company pleasant, if a little frustrating, but her startling insight and honestly was something he found he valued. Her husband Rolf was a very interesting man in his own right, and they had two twin boys, barely two years old and already displaying huge bursts of uncontrolled magic. Neville was now the Herbology Professor after Pomona's retirement, and his wife Hannah was a Healer, they were both easy to be around, and Neville's obvious frustration at the more dunderheaded of his students often made Severus laugh. Ronald had married Lavender Brown, and they had two startling well behaved girls: Rose and Violet. These two were perhaps his least favourite visitors, but Lavender was nice enough, and Ronald played a damn good game of chess when they had the chance. Minerva visited sometimes too, but she insisted Severus deliver the school's potions by hand, and always cornered him for a cup of tea and a gossip about the school's latest mishaps and the students' misadventures. She was excellent company, sharp, witty and occasionally vindictive, and Severus was pleased that they had both wanted to repair their relationship, over a decade ago. Poppy though, was by far the most frequent visitor they had, she delighted in their achievements and basked in their happiness. She was a wonderful friend to them both, and perhaps the only person Severus would turn to with a problem, other than Hermione. She also had a wicked sense of humour and a sharp tongue when she'd had a few drinks. There had been several occasions when she and Hermione had had one too many, and Poppy had stayed in their spare room, or else Severus (who never had more than one or two drinks) would apparate her home safely.

Severus stood and stretched, wondering into that spare room. It was pale green with wooden accents and had a large padded window seat that mostly functioned as a bed for their animals - the room was used by their pets far more often than anyone else. Severus sat and scratched Crookshanks ears. Crookshanks still undoubtedly ruled the house, even old as he was. He had taken to Severus instantly and wholeheartedly, much to Hermione's surprise and Severus' satisfaction. They had rescued a rather pathetic Crup a few years ago that he had named Asphodel – Del – to most – who roamed the house and surrounding areas freely. In a bizarre twist of fate, he was fond of muggles rather than aggressive towards them, and was a favourite of the local villagers who thought his forked tail was an adorable birth defect and often gave him sausages. That was probably where he was now, Severus hadn't seen him since lunch, but he would home soon for dinner - he never missed a meal. Then, almost two years ago, Severus had found a small black kitten crying in the woods near their house, and brought her home, scowling and holding her carefully against his chest. A trip to the vet had revealed that she had no microchip and there had been no reports of any missing pets locally, and so she had been added to the family and named – much to Severus' horror and amusement – Cheese, after her favourite snack. She was a mild and timid thing with average to low intelligence, but Crookshanks and Asphodel adored her, and she was rarely without one or the other of them. She was curled up in the evening sun with Crookshanks now. He and Hemione sometimes talked of having children of their own, neither were particularly opposed to the idea, but neither felt it was something they were very keen on, and Severus firmly believed you should actively want your children. Perhaps they would, one day, Hermione was still so young, they had plenty of time, and there was no need to rush, they had all the time in the world…

"I'm home!" Hermione called as she shut the door behind her, and Severus felt the smile lifting his face and headed downstairs to meet her. "God I work with some challenging people, is everyone just a total dunderhead underneath all their fancy qualifications?"

"You're the brightest witch of several generations, Hermione." Severus said as he put her keys in their key pot and pulled her into a kiss. "Most people are dunderheads compared to you - they can't help it."

She laughed at this and kissed him again.

"We'd better start the food prep for tomorrow-"

"Already done," Severus interrupted, "dinner is in the oven, the marquee is up, I've put out a few benches and the picnic blankets and beach bags are by the back door."

"Severus!" She exclaimed crossly, though she was still smiling. "You didn't have to do all that! I would have helped!"

"I know you would have, but I had the time and I know what a difficult week you've had-"

She cut him off with another kiss, her hand on his back.

"Did I tell you that I invited Minerva and Poppy?" Hermione asked.

"No, but a few more people will hardly make much difference."

"Well that's good," said Hermione, looking a little sheepish, "because Minerva said she'd bring 'the old guard,' whatever that means, and I bumped into Kingsley on my way out and he said he might swing by too." Hermione bit her lip as Severus rolled his eyes. "Will we have enough food and drink?"

"We have enough food and drink to cater for a small army. We'll be fine."

"And you don't mind? I've told everyone you have a meeting with your editor in the afternoon, so just head off whenever you've had enough."

Hermione always made sure he had an 'out' for large gatherings, whether it was a talk at St Mungo's, a potions delivery that had to be done in person, a meeting at the apothecary, she would tell the attendees in advance, and when it got too loud, too long, or too much, Severus would slip away, the lie readymade. It pleased him that she never demanded or required his presence at social functions, and being able to leave when he wanted to always made him feel better. But she had told him many times how proud and happy it made her that he had accepted her friends as a presence in their lives, and the effort he had made with them, and he wanted them to share as much of their lives with each other as possible. He had been so isolated and alone and miserable for so much of his life, that it had made him want to do better with the miraculous second chance he had been given – and it turned out that having people around who accepted him was perfectly tolerable. That said, neither of them were the most social of creatures, and in between the various functions they would attend or host, they spent most of their time together, just the two of them, and that was what Severus liked best.

"I'm sure I'll survive." He answered, and pulled her more firmly against him, kissing her deeply.

"How long until dinner's ready?" She asked him breathlessly.

"About 40 minutes, give or take."

"Well then, we'd better those 40 minutes count." And with that she kissed him again and begun to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Severus smiled as they made their way upstairs, their love and desire for one another had never lessened, and they made love with just as much passion as ever. One of Severus' favourite memories was when, only a few years ago, Hermione had caught him completely off guard. They had been kissing on the landing, when her magic had suddenly pushed him backwards, vanishing his clothing, throwing him against the bed, and ropes had tied his wrists and ankles to the bedposts, leaving him naked and spread eagled before her. He'd know several moments of pure, blind panic, before Hermione's gentle voice had pulled him back, and she'd kissed him so tenderly as she'd taken her own clothes off, telling him he was safe and she would never hurt him.

"If it becomes too much, if you get scared or uncomfortable, I want you to stay 'stop,' and I will, immediately. I will not hurt you, I will not leave this room. Understand?"

And he had nodded, pushing down his fear, breathing hard, but trusting her. And then she had kissed him, kissed his neck which was still riddled with scar tissue, and begun to kiss every single scar on his body. He had become accustomed to her touch with time, even become somewhat used to her lips on his skin, but this was different, this was purposeful, deliberate. She wanted him to watch and experience her accept every mark on him. It had been heady to be adored in this way, terrifying, wonderful to be so exposed, and he had lain there, trembling helplessly, caught somewhere between panic and bliss. She'd kissed all over his torso, on his thighs, the bite mark from Fluffy, and even a scar on his little toe he'd forgotten existed. When her mouth had made her way back up his legs and around his length, he had moaned with abandon, too far gone to think of anything but the way she was making him feel, and it hadn't taken him long to come. He didn't like to restrain her in any way, but after that first time, he had found he liked to surrender complete control to her, on occasion.

Hermione was laying naked on the bed now, she had only become more beautiful with age, and Severus knew how lucky he was to be with her. He kissed her, stroking a hand over her body, playing with a nipple, kissing her neck and her collar bones as he moved his mouth down lower, feeling her nails scape over his back as he moved. He kissed his way over her body, eventually reaching in between her legs to kiss, lick and suck the most intimate part of her being. Hermione's gasps and moans of pleasure were his favourite sounds in the world, along with her laugh, and he enjoyed every moment of her pleasure. As she began to come back from the high he had brought her, she smiled, her eyes gleaming, and leapt up, pushing him over to lie on his back, and she slowly lowered herself onto him. She was exquisite, as always. Her body rose above him, slightly tanned from weekends walking on the beach, evenings working in their garden, her head titled back, one hand splayed on his chest to balance herself. He matched her thrust for thrust, and they built slowly together, until both were panting, their rhythm becoming faster, harder, and then Hermione fell apart around him with a cry. He followed her over the edge moments later, moaning as she collapsed on top of him. A whispered spell later and both were clean and refreshed, though Hermione remained in his arms, toying gently with his hair. He held her close, the desire to be as close to her as possible hadn't lessened with time, it wasn't so desperate now, but it was still there, and she always obliged him.

A bark from Asphodel alerted them both to his arrival home.

"Dinner time." Severus murmured, smiling softly as Hermione rose and slipped one of his shirts on.

"You do us, I'll do them." She replied, as Cheese and Crookshanks also appeared, winding around their mistress' legs.

The morning dawned bright and clear and warm, the perfect weather for a beach day. Hermione's friends and their families arrived in the morning, and Ginerva, Luna, Lavender, Hannah, Hermione and Harry all headed down to beach with the children, taking buckets and spades, towels and snacks, while Ronald, Rolf and Neville stayed at the house and helped Severus get everything ready for lunch. Severus and Ronald managed to sneak in a game of chess (Ron thrashed him), while Rolf played with Asphodel and Neville admired the garden and took a few cuttings. Poppy arrived soon after, laden with pies and wine, followed by Kingsley and Minerva. By the 'old guard' she had meant Pomona, Fillius and Hagrid, who had all been greeted with much enthusiasm. The beach party arrived back, laughing and slightly pink, as Severus, Minerva and Ronald were dishing everything up. Lunch was always a raucous affair, with children laughing and playing as the adults caught up with one another and exchanged news of promotions, of the achievements of their offspring, told jokes and reminisced. Severus enjoyed having the company of his old colleagues around him too, and being able to talk and joke with them, without fear of what any sort of familiarity with him might do to them, without wrestling with cripplingly low self-esteem, made everything that bit easier. As he laughed with Pomona, he caught Hermione looking over at him, her face warm with happiness and pride, as she poured a drink for Ginerva then lifted Lily onto her hip.

"You're so different, it still takes me off guard sometimes." Said Lavender, quietly, and Severus raised a brow. "Happiness agrees with you, I think."

"I would imagine it agrees with most." Severus answered, not bothering to hide his smile.

The afternoon wore on with games and conversations, the children played together well, but Hagrid, Harry and Ronald took such obvious enjoyment in playing with them all that they were well entertained. Severus even took little Albus into his garden to show him the magical plants. At just four years old, he was already more serious and sensitive than his big brother, he listened attentively as Severus talked to him, and asked permission before he touched anything. They walked back to the others hand in hand, and Severus thought that the boy might even make a fine Potioneer someday.

"But why 'Asphodel', Hermione, you've never told us? It's even weirder than Crookshanks! Or even Cheese!" Ronald was saying as Hermione laughed.

"What about Hedwig?" Harry asked, "That was pretty weird, it was just the first name I saw in 'A History of Magic. Asphodel kind of makes sense I think."

"Why does it make sense?" Ron asked.

"Well," said Harry, "you add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood to create the Draught of Living Death, that's Severus' favourite potion to brew."

"Good Lord," said Severus, who had been listening with interest, unseen by the two boys, though Hermione was grinning, "Harry Potter teaching others about Potions, perhaps society as we know it is under threat once again."

Harry laughed and turned slightly pink.

"And Ronald," Severus continued, smirking a little more widely, "wasn't your owl called …'Pigwidgeon'?"

"That wasn't my fault!" Spluttered Ron, as Harry and Hermione laughed. "Ginny named him and he wouldn't respond to anything else!"

It was evening now, and most of their guests had gone home, taking their tired children with them for an early night, though Harry and Ron had since returned. Minerva, Poppy, Pomona and Fillius had stayed, and for perhaps the first time, Severus hadn't used his excuse, hadn't noticed the time slip by, hadn't felt the need to escape. There was a fire burning in their back garden, and the remaining guests were sat around it, listening to the sea below them, talking quietly. Severus stood, smiling at Cheese who was curled up on Minerva's lap, and headed inside. Harry, Ron and Hermione were laughing as they poured drinks for everyone and assembled the canapés, and Severus felt a strange sense of pride as he leaned against the doorframe and watched the three of them. After all this time, they remained best friends, a friendship created in childhood, strengthened by challenges and unspeakable danger and solidified throughout the years, bonding them for life. Hermione stepped away to kiss him softly on the lips, then pressed a tray of food on him to take outside, following him out with the boys in tow. The evening wore on with the steady flow of drinks and easy conversation. Ron recounted their escape from Gringotts with pride, Pomona chuckled through her recollection of her worst students, and Severus and Minerva told stories of their attempts to undermine Umbridge and embarrass Lockhart, making the others roar with laughter.

Eventually, the remaining guests began to make their excuses and head home, and soon, well into the night, it was just he and Hermione left on their sofa, their animals asleep next to them. Hermione was curled into his lap, as he held her close to his chest and played with a strand of her hair, watching the last of the flames die down. Eventually she turned her face up to look at him, tired, smiling, utterly beautiful. Without a word he scooped her up into her arms, smiling at her giggle, and carried her up to bed.

"Yesterday was lovely." Hermione said lazily, the following morning, stretching out in their bed.

"Yes," Severus agreed, "it was. I never imagined…"

Here he trailed off, unsure of how to finish. He'd never imagined so many people around him who he didn't hate, or who didn't hate him. Never imagined existing in a social group, or attending a social function without feeling separate and alone. He had certainly never dared to dream of such a wonderful life for himself. Hermione was smiling softly at him, apparently demonstrating her uncanny ability to know exactly what he was trying to say.

"And we have nothing on today, it's just us."

"Just us," he agreed again, "as it should be."

She bent forwards and kissed him, the morning sun filtered through the curtains and a light breeze blew in through the open windows, bringing with it the smell of sunshine and sea salt. The light made Hermione's hair appear golden, her eyes were sparkling, and she was iridescent in her happiness as she smiled.

"Always." She murmured.

- Fin -

The very end.

Thank you so much to everyone who has read my little story, and an even bigger thank you to everyone who has ever left me a review - I cannot tell you how much they mean to me.

I hope you were able to enjoy the holidays as much as possible, here's hoping 2021 brings a little more normalicy! Take good care.