Author's Note: I'm going to stop pretending that I can stick to an update schedule, because this hellscape we're living in, is kind of an indefinite thing. It's just so hard now between work, and the sporadic waves of depression and anxiety, to know when my brain will be cooperative to write, so I'll just promise to the do the best I can, to keep chugging along as quickly as possible :)

So to this, picking up a little later the same morning.

Rose Scented Bubbles and Misadventures in Bonding

Hermione gave a sharp swirl of her wrist to wandlessly wring out the soapy flannel.

It spun around three times, with water and suds flying everywhere, before she let out a slow breath and extended her arm, watching then as the still faintly dripping cloth, floated across the room, and over into the small wooden laundry hamper in the corner.

It hit the bottom of the basket with an audible 'plop.'

With that bit of housekeeping now taken care of, she slunk down into the water and leaned back to rest her head on the edge of the gleaming white bathtub rim. Her eyes fell shut as she let out a soft sigh.

Clean.

For the first time in almost a week, she'd had a proper washing up. It felt SO good! And the best part . . . well, second best, outside of the bath itself . . . was that she'd managed to do it all by herself! It might have seemed another silly thing to get excited about (much like when she'd first gone to the toilet alone) but really, she was developing a notable degree of discomfort with Snape still having to do almost everything for her.

The comparison to the situation with her parents was much too unsettling.

So when her muppet had mentioned over breakfast that the upstairs bathroom was now prepared for whenever she wanted to go up for her bath, she'd been so excited. Of course he had phrased it as him 'giving' her a bath, but when she'd asked if they could figure out a way for her to bathe by herself, he had . . . after a long, eyebrow twitching stare . . . agreed to assist her with that request. Which was how, after breakfast and potions (including her new hair growth one), they had settled in by the fire for an extended magic sharing session.

To date, previously, the majority of their sessions had been perhaps twenty or thirty minutes, but this one had lasted for just under an hour. It had actually been so nice, not only to be cuddled in his lap for that long, but also because they had spent so much of that time kissing. Really though, outside of having been a wonderful way to pass the time, the snogging had also been for extremely practical reasons.

Her healing process.

Because she was absolutely convinced that their kissing the night before had been the key to vanishing her remaining facial scars so quickly. And though Snape hadn't necessarily agreed with her magical theory . . . "absolute bollocks" was actually his scathing response . . . it had of course taken absolutely no effort at all to convince him that kissing would still be an excellent use of their extended magic sharing time. After all, the point of the exercise had been to make sure that by the time they were done, she would be literally swimming in his magical essence.

And she most definitely had been.

In fact she'd never felt so magically strong, and she'd kind of wondered if that was how he felt all the time. If so, she was more than a little jealous. But really she was thinking that more likely, it was because it was their COMBINED power she had felt surging through her body.

There was nothing else like it.

Especially given how today wasn't like her first few days when she'd been so physically debilitated. Now that most of her wounds were healed, and she'd been eating properly and taking her potions, her physical strength was returning. So once more she could feel a trace of that warm tingle in her magical core . . . something which had been missing since the accident. And after Snape had seen how strong she was after today's sharing session, (literally she had wandlessly tossed a log onto the fire while they were still sitting cuddled up together) the only thing he had insisted upon, was that he needed to get her in and out of the bath. As he'd pointed out, it really would be too dangerous for her to maneuver that step alone, knowing how she still had no practical use of her hands.

And he was absolutely correct there.

So twenty plus minutes ago, he had carried her up the stairs, and while she had sat in his lap in a chair that he had conjured out of thin air, he had quickly filled the tub for her with both hot water, and rose scented bubble bath. He'd claimed the bubble bath was left over from his mother, and truthfully the muggle box did appear to be quite ancient, but still, it was funny that he'd had it. Once he'd checked the temperature of the water though, and then set a stasis charm so that it would stay at a perfect forty degrees Celsius, to her absolute delight, he had spun a small cyclone through the tub to froth the bubbles. After that, while ignoring her attempts to give him a thank you kiss . . . "do not distract me, witch," had been his grunt . . . he had set a seal on her already special gloves, to ensure that they would remain impervious to the effects of both the water, and the heat. Lastly he had rolled up his sleeves, then vanished her clothing, stood up, and slowly lowered her down into the frothy, rose scented, water.

The look of open concern on his face as he'd straightened up, and slowly backed away, had brought a warmth to her core that had nothing to do with the temperature of the bath.

"I'll be fine," she had whispered to him with a little smile, "I promise. And I also promise to yell for you immediately if I have even the slightest problem. Now you go do some Snape stuff for a little while. I'll be done in maybe twenty minutes, okay?"

After he'd stared at her for another moment, he'd finally tipped his head and murmured a reluctant, "as you wish," before he'd turned away.

He had been fixing his sleeves again as he'd walked out.

Once he was gone, she'd set about getting all of the basics handled while his magical boost was still at its strongest. First her hair, which had been shockingly simple to wash now that it was so short, then it was a VERY light brush of a soapy flannel over her face, limbs, chest and stomach before she'd moved on to her personal areas. And though there was no doubt that she desperately needed a shave, (in so many places), she didn't trust herself with a razor. Not until she was fully healed. With her luck, the wandless magic would sputter out at the wrong time and she'd end up cutting herself. And if she had to call Snape back in to find her in a bathtub of bloody water, there was no doubt he would absolutely have a heart attack.

So no . . . she rolled her eyes . . . having a shave was definitely was not worth any of that potential drama.

Now that the actual bathing was done though, and she had settled back into the nice hot water, she could feel the magical boost was draining off at a somewhat unsettling speed.

It was sort of felt like crashing after a sugar high.

And given how she'd literally collapsed to the floor the other night after a five minute sharing session, she had to wonder, now with a tension building in her muscles, just how bad the crash would be this time.

It was the last focused thought she had on the matter, before she felt something strange happen. It was like her consciousness was being sucked away. Her eyes began to roll, and then suddenly she was splashing and sputtering, trying to push herself back up out of the water she'd slipped down into.

She'd passed out.

"Merlin's beard," she slurred, still blinking water from her eyes and trying to focus as she looked over at the puddles all over the floor, "what the bloody hell was that?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth, than she heard Snape yelling, "MISS GRANGER! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?!" as his footsteps began to pound up the stairs.

"I'M OKAY, MUPPET!" She hollered back, "I JUST GOT A LITTLE . . . "

And her voice trailed off as he suddenly appeared in the doorway.

". . . sleepy."

His wild eyes blinked as he took in the state of the room, "sleepy?!" He repeated back in horror and confusion, "you became sleepy, and decided to scream the words, quote, 'oh shite, I'm going to drown in the bath!?'"

"What?!" Her eyes popped as her brain suddenly refocused, "I didn't . . . oh, wait, did I? Oh," she bit her lip, "I'm sorry, I really don't remember screaming anything. I must have, um. . . "

And her cheeks started to flush as she realized full honesty was the only way forward here.

"I passed out." She continued on, now speaking softly at the growing level of alarm on Snape's already extremely upset expression, "it was just for a second when the last of the shared magic suddenly drained off, but," her jaw twisted, "when I felt it happening, I did start to get anxious."

Then her eyes widened.

"Then I panicked," she spoke now in wonder, "I remember now. When I was slipping into the water, I screamed in my head. You must have heard me . . ."

". . . through the bond."

Snape finished her thought as he stepped fully through the doorway. Then he plopped down onto the small chair he had conjured barely a half hour ago. He dropped his head into his hands.

"Bloody hell," he muttered behind the curtain of his hair, "this bond is going to be exhausting." Hearing those words, and the tone of annoyance that came with them, Hermione felt her eyes begin to prickle with hot tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered with a crackle in her voice, "I didn't mean to do it. I didn't even realize what I was doing when it was happening."

The tears in his Miss Granger's voice forced Snape's head to snap back up again.

His expression softened when he saw that she was crying.

"Do not cry, Miss Granger," he answered softly, "and please do not apologize either. The regret here is mine, for my reaction to something you clearly could not control. And actually," he let out a slow sigh, "it was not even the telepathy which caused me to get upset. It was the residual fear I was processing, from believing that you were in danger." His voice began to thicken, "I felt panicked in a way that I have not in a very long time. I was afraid that something had happened to you."

Hermione sniffled and gave him a tearful, worried, smile.

"So does this mean that you might be having some second thoughts about being bondmates? Because we didn't realize this kind of telepathy could happen, and I don't know how I'll stop it from happening again. I mean," she sniffled again and pouted, "I don't want to give you a heart attack twenty times a day."

Snape immediately stood up then, and walked over to the bathtub. Then he stooped down by her side, and pressed a gentle kiss to the lips of his beautiful witch.

"There are no second thoughts," he whispered while pulling away a moment later with a brush of his thumb along her chin, "I would not barter away these feelings I have for you, for anything. And if you are frightened, or in danger, obviously I DO want you to call for me through the bond, just as you did. And if you are in danger twenty times a day, then so be it." He huffed, "we both know it would not be the first time. And if such circumstances were to arise again, as both your mate and your protector, clearly my presence at your side should be expected." He tipped his head, "I would not wish for it to be any other way. So really the bond functioned exactly as it was supposed to. It alerted me to your distress. I was just taken by surprise at the intensity of the moment, but next time I will know what it is that is happening. And once we have addressed the situation with your parents, we will begin research on bond communication. Together we will figure it all out," his eyes crinkled faintly as he brushed a fresh tear off her already wet cheek, "it will be fine."

For a moment Hermione just blinked and sniffled as she looked over at this man who could just constantly amaze her.

"Everyone else's relationships are rubbish," she whispered after a moment, "ours is the best."

His jaw quivered slightly.

"I agree," he answered her with a smirk, "we are better than everyone. We always have been. Now then," his eyebrow quirked up as he gave her bubbles a quick glance, "are you ready to get out of the bath?"

When she gave him a tight nod, he pulled out his wand. Once he'd set a heating charm around the both of them, he began muttering the rest of the incantations needed to get her dry and clothed. As it was, it was barely a minute later when she was looking up at him from the dry bathtub, now dressed once more in one of his black, silk lined, nightshirts.

Her eyes crinkled.

"You forgot to give me underwear."

"No," he smirked again, "I didn't."

At his response, two bright, lovely, spots of color appeared on her cheeks as she bit down on her blossoming smile.

"Cheeky bastard."

The long, low, seductive chuckle he let out at that, set such a quiver in Hermione's lower regions that she wanted to yank him into the bathtub with her. Not that she was in any physical condition for sexual intercourse . . . nor was a cold, slippery, tub a very comfortable place to have a first time . . . but the things that man's voice could do to her, she almost would have been willing to pass out in the middle of it anyway.

Luckily Snape distracted her from those extremely impure thoughts, by his next, much more sober, question.

"Did you wish to try walking again?"

His voice was tight. Clearly he was trying to temper his concerns in this area, while also respecting her desire to more quickly reclaim some of her independence. But Hermione knew that she wasn't up for anymore exercise that day. And even a simple walk counted as exercise right now.

Between the bath and the after effects of the magic sharing, she was completely drained.

"Oh, um, no," she answered with a bite of her lip, "thank you for asking, but I don't think that walking would be very wise right now. With the magic sharing drain sapping my energy, and the warm water relaxing my muscles, my legs are feeling pretty loopy."

"Loopy?" Snape repeated the word back to her with a faint scoff of derision. "As I recall," he continued speaking while leaning over the tub to pick her up, "this is a muggle term." He pulled her up to his chest, "and not one which is in any way applicable to the use of your legs."

"Oh hush," she yawned back while turning her face into his neck . . . he smelled so lovely, "you know what it means from context." She continued on now with her voice slightly muffled by his collar, "now did you wish for me to crawl down the hallway to take a nap, or are you going to carry me?"

"You already know that I shall carry you anywhere," he answered with a grunt while shifting his hold on her slightly, "but we will come back to your use of nonsensical muggle verbiage, at a later date."

"Oh how grand that will be," she grumbled back sarcastically.

Though she was expecting some additional rejoinder from Snape . . . the idea of him letting her get in the last word, (no matter how stupid the topic of their conversation), did not seem likely . . . there was none. Instead she felt him press a kiss to her temple.

When she lifted her head slightly to look over at him, he simply quirked his lip.

"I enjoy your occasional bouts of bitterness," he explained with a tip of his head, "I find them . . . charming."

For a second Hermione just stared back at him, then she let out a faint, sleepy, snort of laughter.

"Only you would find bitterness charming," she huffed in amusement. His only response to her remark was to give her another kiss.

That one was on the lips.

It was gentle, and soft, and it made her oh so happy, even though she was oh so tired. It wasn't until Snape had broken away that Hermione realized while he was kissing her, he had walked them over into the bedroom.

It was a room she hadn't seen yet.

Even as she was contentedly licking his taste from the corner of her lip, her sleepy eyes widened in surprise at what she saw in front of them.

"Oh my," she breathed out, "this is . . . did you," her gaze darted over to his and then immediately back to the room, "did you make that bed for me?"

It was ENORMOUS! And GORGEOUS! All covered over in what seemed to be layers of silk, plus piles of pillows, and all of the colors of the bedding, and the really the whole of the room, were obviously designed to complement their respective houses.

It was amazing!

"I did make a few specific alterations with your comfort in mind," Snape answered Miss Granger softly, trying to hide the uncertainty from his tone, "is it, do you find it acceptable?"

Hermione's eyes filled at the waver in his tone . . . that he could do such a thing for her, and still be so unsure of himself.

She looked over at him with a sniffle and a nod.

"I love it. And the bed, and the colors you chose, they," her words crackled, "well, they make me feel like I belong here."

Feeling an ache in his chest at the pain he could hear in his Miss Granger's voice, Snape pressed his lips to her ear.

"You do belong here," he whispered, "because you belong with me. This is a space I created to make you . . . happy."

The hesitance in his use of the last word was not out of discomfiture at his actions, but simply at the unfamiliarity of having such that word roll off his tongue at all. Happiness, his own, and that of others, had been such a foreign concept to him. But now with his Miss Granger, the word had meaning.

And purpose.

And hearing her muffled, emotional, sniffle of, "oh my sweet muppet," as she buried her face in his neck, he knew that he had expressed himself correctly.

Thank Merlin.

So his eyes crinkled faintly as he gave her body a gentle squeeze.

"I will excuse the muppet this once," he answered softly, "simply because you are pleased. That is the only reason."

And with that, and hearing her watery giggle against his throat . . . it made a lovely vibration against his skin . . . he carried her over to the bed.

As they approached, the covers slid down of their own accord, and then he was leaning over to place his witch down ontoher side of the bed.

The left.

He straightened up then for just a moment to straighten a kink from his back.

When he saw then Miss Granger's lashes beginning to flutter, his expression softened . . . she was going to pass out soon. So he leaned over again to quickly get her settled before that happened. This time he let one hand settle firmly on her hip, as the other slid along her bare leg.

He was shifting her up the mattress.

"That feels nice," Hermione let out on a sigh at Snape's gentle touch, "though I'm sorry it's all so fuzzy down there. I haven't shaved in forever."

Snape's hand stilled on Miss Granger's thigh, even as his eyebrow ticked upwards in surprise.

"Such matters will never be of any concern to me," he answered with a stroke of his thumb along her silky skin, "my concerns will only ever be for your good health. The rest is all vanity."

And to punctuate this point, he let his hand slide up and under her night shirt. When her sleepy gaze darted up to catch his, he gave her inner thigh a firm squeeze.

She bit her lip.

"I'd hoped we could do a bit more once I wasn't so disgustingly unwashed," Hermione spoke with a soft, slightly embarrassed, smile, "but I'm afraid I'm too tired right now."

His expression immediately softened then as he let his hand slide back down to her knee.

"I was making no genuine advance," he answered while moving his other hand up to lightly brush his fingertip over the fuzz of her nearly reformed eyebrow, "I was simply stressing that as you are, you are a beauty."

Her eyes began to glisten . . . and his jaw twitched.

"You are my beauty," he continued softly, "and I look forward to engaging in additional physical affections when you are well, but for now you must rest. Because it is clear that the magic sharing is consistently affecting you somewhat paradoxically, in that the more of my magic you receive, the greater the physiological crash you experience when that magic depletes. It is not a common side effect, so hopefully this is a temporary condition linked to your trauma. After all, we must remember that though you awoke feeling better today, it is clear now that did not mean you actually were better. In retrospect," he tipped his head to the side, "I believe now it was more likely an endorphin boost you felt this morning, comparative to how badly you felt yesterday morning."

Hermione's lip quirked up.

"That's a good theory. You're so smart."

"Yes," he responded drily, "I have long been aware of my advanced intelligence, Miss Granger. Thank you though, for mustering up your last bit of physical strength, to state the obvious."

When she let out a soft, sleepy, chuckle of, "you're such a git," he rolled his eyes and leaned over, slanting his head slightly, to give her a kiss.

"And you are a dunderhead," he murmured against her lips, "I weep for the limited acuity of our theoretical, undecided upon, offspring."

Hearing her let another, soft, sleepy giggle, his eyes crinkled ever so slightly.

"Go to sleep," he whispered with a light brush of his thumb along her lower lip, "we can exchange additional insults when you awaken."

"So romantic," she yawned as her lashes fluttered. That time he ignored her, knowing it was likely she would keep going as long as he did. Instead he simply continued with the soft caress of her lip until he saw her respirations evening out.

Asleep.

So he straightened up and turned to look at the room behind him, and the stack of potion books he had brought upstairs while she was in the bath. He took a breath.

Time to get on with their research.

/*/*/*/

Hermione awoke with a start. At first she wasn't sure why she was awake, only that her heart was pounding as she blinked up at the wooden slats on the ceiling above her. But then suddenly there was a catastrophic boom of thunder . . . she jumped again.

That's when she realized what must have awoken her.

"Oh," she huffed out the annotation to her still sleep foggy brain, "it's raining."

"Of course it is raining," she heard Snape respond in a flat monotone, "this is England."

Her gaze immediately darted across her (their) new bedroom, to see him sitting in one of the wing chairs by the hearth. The fire was crackling in front of him. As their eyes made contact in the shadows, he snapped his book closed and with a wave of his free hand, the small wrought iron lamp by on her bedside table, came to light.

It threw a soft glow over her section of the room.

She smiled at him.

"Thanks," she whispered, watching as he slowly came to his feet . . . the book he'd been reading was dropped into the wing chair.

She could see there was a whole stack of books piled around his chair.

At a glance they looked to be ones he'd brought from the cottage. So at least she knew what he'd been up to while she was sleeping.

"I assume you are hungry?" Snape asked while starting across the room.

"Famished actually," she answered on a yawn, half smothered into her elbow, "is it time for lunch?"

His lips pursed.

"You have missed lunch. And tea. At this point an evening meal would be most appropriate."

She blinked in surprise.

"How long was I asleep?"

Snape stopped next to the bed then, and tipped his head to the side.

"I would say," his jaw twitched, "approximately eight point seven five hours."

She blinked again before letting out on a faint stutter.

"Tha, that's quite a long time."

The length really was too long to even qualify as a nap. And given how it wasn't potion induced, she had to figure she'd probably scared the blazes out of him passing out for so many hours in the middle of the day. A point confirmed when she saw Snape's jaw tighten slightly as he nodded.

"It was. I ran diagnostics on you at various intervals simply to ensure that you were not suffering some genuine relapse." He let out a slow breath, "you were fine."

Though to the untrained ear, his tone might have sounded somewhat flat, Hermione had enough practice in reading him to hear that tremor of concern lacing his words. So she gave him a pout and opened her arms.

Just as she'd expected, his lips immediately pressed together into a thin line, right before he stooped down by the bed, to pull her into a hug.

"You did give me a worry."

Again, the flatness in his tone was undercut, this time by the bodily squeeze that came with the word, 'worry.' So she turned her head to kiss his cheek.

"I'm sorry I scared you," she murmured against his skin.

As he disentangled himself from their embrace, she continued on then as he was helping her to sit up straight against the pillowed headboard.

"Maybe after we're together a little longer," she continued with a heavy breath, "we'll be able to communicate through the bond more easily."

Seeing Snape's brow knit together in confusion, she clarified her thought.

"I mean, we already know the bond is capable of sending out spontaneous messages from one of us to the other when we're sleeping, so maybe there's a way for us to send conscious messages as well. Like, when you first became worried about me sleeping so long, you could have closed your eyes and focused on asking me if I was okay. And maybe it would have been possible for me to have answered you in my dream. Because I would have said, 'yes, muppet, I'm fine. We're just having a picnic in the Forbidden Forest.'"

Snape blinked.

"The Forbidden Forest is not a safe place for a picnic."

And she rolled her eyes.

"Well, it was perfectly safe in my dream."

Then her expression lightened as she remembered the rest of her slumbering activities.

"Oh, we also went to Diagon Alley and you bought me a steamer trunk's worth of books, and yourself a new case of potion ingredients. And then we put on fancy dress robes to have a posh dinner at a magical restaurant hidden in Covent Garden. That's where you made the waiter cry because he was rude to me when I asked a question about the fish preparation."

She gave him a wide grin.

"It was a grand day.

The absolute joy apparent in Miss Granger's recall of events which had never actually occurred, fomented a spark of genuine happiness in Snape's damaged soul. No matter the terrible thing she had done, it was clear that her soul, was still pure.

And he would do his damndest to ensure it stayed that way.

So he played along with her thoughts, in a way he never would have with anyone before.

"That does sound like an acceptable way to spend an afternoon," he answered primly, "and," he tipped his head, "I do enjoy making grown men cry. So when things are settled, we will attempt to recreate the activities of your dream." Then he shot her a quick scowl.

"But there will be no picnics in the Forbidden Forest. We are not dying for tea cakes."

"All right," she chuckled, "agreed."

Now that Hermione had given Snape an update on her 'activities' for the previous eight point seven five hours, she asked him what progress he had made with their research. It turned out, quite a bit. To her surprise, he'd worked his way through almost a half dozen of her potion books. But then she found out that he'd gotten through them so quickly because he had read them all previously so all he'd needed to do was skim them again for any relevant points on memory charms. He said he had made a number of notations for key points, and also made a diagram listing out another series of books they could cross reference from his notes. When she asked him why he hadn't attempted to awaken her to help with all of this research, she got another eye roll, and a notably insulted, "shockingly, Miss Granger, having taught the topic of potions for the last twenty years, I was able to peruse a pile of potion books, without any assistance from you." And when she shot him an eyebrow and asked, "exactly how many times today did you wish for me to call you a git?" his mouth quivered, just before he turned away to pull something from the top dresser drawer by the bed. When he turned back, he had a thick, gold, woolen scarf in his hands.

"To help ensure you do not catch a chill," was the murmur as he placed it around her shoulders and loosely tied the ends together across her chest.

"Thank you," she whispered, watching as he straightened up and pulled out his wand.

A simple, "Accio, Hermione's dinner," was uttered, and while he was leaning in again to tuck one of his ubiquitous black handkerchiefs under her chin, she heard the sound of something moving downstairs. It wasn't long before a wooden tray came floating through the open bedroom door.

"Fish and chips," Snape announced as the food moved to hover over Miss Granger's blanket covered lap, "delivered from one of the shops. But here, let me . . ."

And he pulled out his wand again to give the newspaper wrapped items a tap.

Steam began to rise up.

Now getting a fresh, delectable, whiff of her dinner, Hermione's eyes crinkled as her stomach began to rumble.

"Oh that smells marvelous, thank you."

"You are welcome," Snape responded quietly while once more tucking away his wand, "but really, I was simply craving fish and chips myself, so that is why you are having them for dinner." Hearing Miss Granger's soft chuckle at his response, he gave her a tiny smirk. Then he took a breath and as his expression sobered, he asked the notable question.

"Would you like to attempt to feed yourself?"

For a moment she was quiet, then she gave a faint nod as she stared down at her glove covered hands.

She slowly flexed her fingers.

"Yes," her eyes darted up to his, "I think I'm ready. There's definitely no more pain. But I assume you still want to look at my hands again first?"

He tipped his head.

"Obviously."

The word came out much kinder than she'd heard it in the past. And then he added, "please raise them up in front of you, and then close your eyes," so she did. And a moment later she felt the cloth covering her hands disappear.

It came back almost as quickly as it had left. And when she hesitantly opened her eyes and looked up to her bondmate, she saw a faint, pleased, smile on his face.

"Structurally, they look quite good," he stated emphatically, "for today though I would refrain still from attempting more than a loose fist, because I think the newly formed muscles in your palm might cramp. Just work on the fine motor skills with your fingers. So to that end, you should be fine to eat, and to try using your wand again, but aesthetically, there is some notable," he tipped his head, "puckering on your skin, so I do think we should leave the gloves on at least until morning. Tonight I'll apply the Dittany, and if the scarring still persists, then going forward you can decide yourself if you would like to wear the gloves on a regular basis."

Feeling a wave of relief that it appeared she was going to have full use of her hands again . . . it was a genuine worry that the damage might have been permanent . . . Hermione let out a heavy sigh.

"Tha, that's," she stammered slightly, "that's some very good news to hear. I mean permanent scarring wouldn't be great, obviously, but I was genuinely worried that the structural damage might have been too much even for potion repair. But if you say it looks good," she took a breath and looked back down to the tray still hovering, "I'll be happy to try picking up some chips."

So with that, Snape had the tray move closer, until it was just over her lap. And after giving him a slightly nervous smile, she hesitantly reached out, pinching her thumb and forefinger together as she moved to pick up a crisp. To her shock . . . it was a success!

And without any pain or discomfort at all!

So for a second, she stared down, somewhat stupidly, at the sliver of fried potato held between her gloved fingers. Then she heard Snape intone sarcastically. "Now is the point when you put the food into your mouth, Miss Granger, not stare at it like a simpleton."

She shot him a look . . . and he shot her one back.

"Git," she muttered while slowly raising the chip up to her lips.

A moment later she was chewing and swallowing and, dear Merlin, it was DELICOUS!

Before she'd even thought about it she was reaching for another one. She had finished her fourth chip and had just started to reach for the piece of fish with her other hand, when she heard Snape let out a faint snort.

When she looked up at him in confusion, he tipped his head.

"It pleases me to see your appetite has returned."

"Oh," Hermione looked down at the food she was now holding in both of her hands, "yes, I guess it has. That is a relief. But also," and her lips twisted in a faint smile then, "fish and chips are one of my favorites too."

He nodded.

"That is good to know. I suppose we shall have to," and his jaw twitched distastefully, "discuss such things, when time permits."

As he had never previously had a mate, these rituals were unfamiliar to him, but he did understand, objectively, that learning of Miss Granger's likes and dislikes would be an important part of their bonding. Though he did have to imagine such conversations could likely become tedious at times, he would still certainly make the effort.

Simply spending time with her would be reward enough.

And he could see now, her eyes crinkling in amusement as she looked up at him.

"I appreciate the thought," she responded to his suggestion with a warm smile . . . he could see bits of potato in her teeth, "but I know how much you despise having to discuss frivolous topics, so that would be torture for you. So I would suggest that we each simply make a very short list of things we hate, and things we enjoy. No more than five items on each. We can exchange the lists for general reference, and the rest of it," she shrugged, "what's important, will come in time."

For a moment Snape simply blinked.

That was a perfect compromise. And in that moment, he felt completely understood in a way that he rarely had before.

Certainly never by any other witch.

So before he had even given it a second thought, or process the fact that she was mid chew, he was leaning down to give her a kiss.

She tasted of the chips . . . luckily she had not yet taken a bite of the fish.

"Thank you," he whispered as he pulled away. And he stopped, before taking a breath and just saying, "thank you," again.

It was all he could think to say. She had given him a gift. It was the only appropriate response. What was important was that he could see how his reaction had pleased her.

There were two bright spots of color on her cheeks.

So from there he simply watched as she quickly finished her meal without any assistance from him. And then as he wandlessly cleared away her empty plates, and provided a light Evanesco on her face, and a slightly stronger one on her gloves (grease stains) he updated her on a random bit of news he had seen in The Daily Prophet. Specifically that her friend Miss Ginevra Weasley, had just been named the captain of the Holyhead Harpies, and that she was, as a matter of general trivia, the youngest witch to ever be named captain of a professional Quidditch team.

A fact which made Miss Granger grin from ear to ear.

Once she was tidied up though, and he had summoned a breath freshening potion for her from the bathroom . . . "the fish was wonderful, but I want it out of my mouth now," was how she had requested it . . . he took a deep breath and walked over to the tallest of the three bookcases in the room. There, on the top shelf, he picked up a small item wrapped in a velvet cloth.

It was one he had placed there earlier in the day.

He walked back to the bed and placed the cloth into his Miss Granger's lap.

"It is time to see what it looks like."

It was all he said. Then he took two steps back and bit his lip.

Hermione blinked as she stared down at the thick piece of blue velvet lying in her lap. Though she knew without asking exactly what it was Snape had just handed her, she was still nervous about actually opening the cloth.

What if there was a problem with her magic?

What if the spell didn't work?

Or even worse, what if it did work, and this was when they would discover that her Patronus remained as it always had been? Would that mean she would never grow to love him as much as he would her? It was a horrible thought, and one which briefly paralyzed her. Because she already cared so much for him, but what if it wouldn't be enough?

What if she wouldn't be enough?

Now fully convinced that something would go catastrophically wrong with her Patronus spell, Hermione's panicked gaze darted up to his.

"If it hasn't changed," she whispered fervently, "please don't be upset with me. Remember it would probably just be because I'm not fully recovered yet. It certainly wouldn't be because I don't care for you as much as you do for me," her voice started to thicken, "over these last few days, you've already made me happier than anyone ever has before. All I want is to be with you."

Snape winced and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he saw the tears that had been glistening in Miss Granger's eyes, now spilling over.

"You are getting yourself needlessly upset," he stated gently, "your affection for me is not something that I doubt. I can sense it." He brought his fist up and tapped his chest, "in here. And before you say that is evidence of my feelings for you, and not the reverse, let me add that what I am sensing here right now is your panic and grief. What I am feeling, is tenderness and worry. These are different threads running through me. So my witch," he gave her an impassioned look," what I need you to do now, is to pick up your wand, and cast the spell. And whatever happens, happens. The result will not affect our bond either way."

For a moment Hermione just blinked and sniffled as she looked up at Snape . . . she was processing what he'd said. Finally, a slow, watery, smile, crossed her lips.

"Okay then," her eyes crinkled as she cleared her throat, "as long as you already know how I feel about you, then I can do it."

So with that, she looked back to the piece of velvet. Very gently, she began to unwrap the small piece of vine wood.

The first thing she did after picking it up, was to cast a spell to clean the tears from her face. When that worked without any problem, she felt a bit more confidence in her magical abilities. So she looked over at Snape now standing back next to the bookcase where he'd been storing her wand.

He had given her a bit of space to perform the Patronus Charm.

His arms were crossed at his chest, and he was watching her with a worried crease in his brow and bite of his lower lip. And seeing him like that, showing such clear and open concern even after everything he had said to reassure her, she felt a surge of warmth for him in her chest. It was a spark of genuine love.

She was sure of it.

And when she saw Snape's eyes widen slightly as he looked at her, she knew that was what he felt from her through the bond too.

So before she could think about it any longer, she closed her eyes. Then she conjured up her happiest memory.

It was a different one now than it used to be.

Before it had always been the day she'd received her letter from Hogwarts, but now her first, (and somewhat shockingly), only thought, was of the wizard across the bedroom. It was the two of them last night, the first time he had kissed her.

The pure joy and wonder she had felt.

Her eyes snapped open. Then her gaze dropped to the silk bed covering right before she brought her wand up high. She sucked in a breath.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

There was no delay in the creation of the silvery form, and to her overwhelming relief, (though faint melancholy at the loss) her beloved otter was definitely gone. The bond had transformed her Patronus just as it had Snape's! And when she realized what had appeared in front of them, her face lit up in absolute delight. When she looked over at her bondmate, she saw a similar look on his face.

Though his expression was also tinged with a slight bit of envy.

"You got a dragon," Snape whispered in awe as the shimmering wings began to flutter . . . the creature absolutely FILLED the space between them, "I would have loved a dragon, but oh my, that is," and he looked over at her with a true, blinding, smile, "BLOODY MARVELOUS!"

Her Patronus had transformed not just into a serpent, which would have pleased him to no end regardless . . . to have such an effect on a Gryffindor . . . but for it to appear as the greatest serpentine creature alive, was astounding. As was the surge of pride he felt as well.

Because this was all due to her connection to him.

As he looked over then at the tears in Miss Granger's eyes, and the happy smile on her face, he suddenly knew exactly who she was to him.

The Patronus had solidified it.

"Kayda," he whispered whilst walking up to the bed, "that is what I shall call you. It means Little Dragon in Japanese, and you know Japanese dragons are unique in that they are not only fierce," he reached over to briefly touch her cheek as his voice faded, "but brilliant."

For a second Hermione only blinked as she looked past Snape, and over to the silvery form just beginning to fade. Then her gaze shifted back to his.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"That's beautiful. And I love it. Thank you."

A second later she sniffled as a cheeky, watery, grin touched her lips.

"But I'm still calling you muppet."

A/N2: Finally, we got the Patronus bit done. I wrote it MONTHS ago! Before I'd written any of the rest of this chapter, so I'm so happy to have now been able to fold it in here. And the Japanese bits are true. Their folklore is unique in that they believe dragons to be extremely intelligent creatures, and Kayda does mean Little Dragon. It seemed like a perfect term of endearment for a Slytherin. Also, I like it because Kayda sounds like 'querida,' which some of you may know is a Spanish term of endearment. Like "sweetheart." So Kayda works on a couple levels :)

And the trivia on Ginny, I took some of that from her wiki page which had a few JK thoughts on her life between Hogwarts and the epilogue. Making her the youngest witch captain in Quidditch history, was my addition.

Otherwise, obviously still working the romantic bits here, while trying to keep snarky/grumpy Snape in there too, plus a bit of exasperated Hermione. They're both so strong willed, they would clearly cause a bit of eye rolling with one another. Though generally it would just be good natured. And now that we have Hermione's injuries basically healed, (outside of her unfortunate tendency to pass out after their magic sharing sessions) and her wand back in her hands, we can move on to the crux of the plot...what to do about her parents. So next time around, we'll be getting into that more. Again, thank you everyone for your continued support here. I love to hear from you. It makes me happy to know that the story is still resonating, and bringing a bit of diversion, to other people's lives Especially given how stressful life still is in general right now.

Stay healthy!