A/N: Not sure if anyone is still interested in this but I figured I'd write whenever inspiration actually hits.
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The interruption from his godson was enough to make the intimate mood between Hermione and himself disappear completely. Trying to get it back would just arouse suspicions and he wasn't sure if Hermione was yet ready for the full force of his passions. Except, wasn't she the one who leaned in first…? Oh well, he couldn't afford to ponder it much further right now, the bushy haired beauty was currently deeply engaged with her research. They were in the middle of going over the test results of her salve now that she's added the black caraway seed essence. After some convincing (and admittedly a little chiding) Severus had convinced her to test the salve only on a few letters versus the long patch of skin. Just the thought of further injury to her made Severus physically ill. He might have issued a harsher scolding for her recklessness but he personally knew of the pain and insecurities born from having scarred flesh. Having endured abuse from a young age, he'd accumulated a plethora of markings from all types of sources. Some were still red and angry looking, others faded with the passage of time. And there were many that were unseen and he had a feeling those would never go away. She had reported feeling a stinging pain when it was first applied, the barely audible hiss from her mouth giving that factoid away. Severus frowned, documenting her words and his own observations of how the cursed letters sizzled slightly at contact with the salve. But seeing as nothing horrific had happened he allowed her to cover the rest of her arm with the salve.
And then they waited.
A tempus charm was cast to ensure that they (namely Hermione) would remove the bandage on her salve covered arm and assess the damage or lack thereof in an hour. But when that hour was up and only the faintest hint of fading was present Hermione was visibly deflated. "Damn it, I thought for sure it would work this time!" Her palms slapped angrily against the pristine work surface. The solid whack ringing in his ears. Hot tears trailed down the poor witch's face. Leaving her looking quite red and blotchy. Clearly, she was frustrated.
"Shhhhhh," he breathed, coming up closer from behind and grasping her shoulders, and rubbing them soothingly. "Try to relax dear and think positively," he said softly, he was using his lecturing voice but it was warm, not cold. "You saw some fading, correct? Maybe additional applications are necessary. Or you might need to wait longer than an hour for it to be effective…" Severus pointed out. "Whatever it is, you are a woman of a dazzling intellect. I have no reason to believe that you won't figure it out eventually."
Surprisingly enough, Hermione leaned back into his arms, seeming to fit there perfectly. She sighed, "You're too good to me, Sev," she uttered using a voice that sounded far too affectionate for his heart to take. Please, he prayed silently, let this woman find it in her heart to love me.
His soulmate.
"Nonsense," he said immediately, knowing she deserved every kindness. Not just for saving his life but for continuing to put up with his moods, for forgiving the likes of Draco Malfoy and drawing the poor boy out of his guilt ridden shell, for dealing with that moronic Weasley boy and the slightly less annoying Potter, and for volunteering at St. Mungos on her days off as his apprentice, and now for her continued work to improve the lives of others. Yes, while it was true that she'd be benefiting from this salve as well; it was no secret that many people still had scars leftover from the war and many a witch and wizard would be pleased to finally have a way to get rid of them. The Slytherin in him couldn't help but think of the sheer amount of galleons she'd make once this thing was perfected and ready to be distributed. But he also knew what a bleeding heart his little witch had and she'd never charge what it was truly worth.
As if he needed another reason to admire this woman.
"May I take you to lunch?" He asked formally, the words leaving his mouth almost on their own accord. His high cheekbones tinted pink, giving his usually ivory skin a bit of color. Hermione turned in his arms just then, eyebrows raised to her temple but a beatific smile on her face nonetheless. It only served to make Severus's cheeks rosier.
She tilted her head, observing him. Her hands raised to rest on his chest, a fact which terrified him greatly knowing she'd feel the hammering of his heart beneath her fingertips. "Lunch sounds marvelous. I need to get my mind off of things anyway," she breathed, shaking her head. Her hands fell away from his chest and he mourned the loss of their warmth. "I just need a moment to freshen up. Merlin, I probably look a mess, I've done so much crying today," Hermione chuckled nervously, barely meeting his probing gaze.
He saw no difference, she was just as lovely as ever, but he didn't comment lest he wind up saying something stupid. He just arched a brow, smirking at the flush of her cheeks and watched as she excused herself, presumably to her bathroom. A few minutes later she returned, face clear and looping her arm through his with an unabashed trust and confidence that made Severus's heart clench in his chest.
He was always floored by her ability to trust him. Not just now, but from the beginning. Perhaps at first it was the blind faith that any child would have towards an authority figure, but even after doubts and suspicions had been casted upon his actions—in the end, she had chosen to trust him. Saving his life without even the benefit of the knowledge Harry had when he viewed his memories in the pensieve. It was mystifying. And when he asked her about it she simply stated that something inside her had just…..known.
Was that what being soulmates meant?
He could remember a time when he had cursed God for not allowing Lily to be the one who made the words on his body burn in that signature way. That alone should've made it easier for him to stop loving her but it hadn't. And yet, years later when it finally happened he found that he was unworthy of such a precious gift. This woman was kind, thoughtful, intelligent, lovely, soft, warm, forgiving, long suffering, sexy, witty, and comforting. And so much more. It was hard to define such a witch except to say that she was incomparable. What would happen if he told her the secrets of his heart? Would she recoil? Or would she give him that warm smile and kiss away the fear? Would something inside her give her that same tug it had when she saved him? That enigmatic sense of knowing.
A tug on his sleeve brought him out of his head and he realized that he hadn't apparated away yet. He blushed, glancing down at the witch standing quite close to him. An amused and curious glimmer in her eyes. "A sickle for your thoughts?"
Once again the words burned on his tongue, but he held back. Instead, he smirked, his voice taking on a faux haughtiness. "Surely my thoughts are worth a galleon or two, at least?" She laughed despite it being a poor joke, but that curious and now, mildly concerned expression never left her face. She was like kindness incarnate. He reached out to stroke her cheek, unable to restrain himself from the action nor could he dampen the love in his gaze no matter how much he tried to occlude against the vast depth of his feelings. "Honestly, it's not really something I'm ready to share," he admitted, not wanting to lie to her. "Not yet anyway. Maybe later," he promised, which seemed to satisfy her for the time being. He might've said something more but the sound of Hermione's stomach growling silenced them both. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment and Severus gave a hearty laugh. "Come, let us get you fed my dear."