Chapter 30: Honourable Intentions

"Who on earth could that be at this time of night?" Jane Granger frowned, muting the television.

"I'll get it." Phillip hadn't been particularly enjoying the movie anyway - Jane had a fondness for tragic romance that he didn't share - and he wasn't at all averse to leaving Suzanne or whatever her name was to suffer alone with her heart condition. And whoever was knocking on their front door was being quite persistent about it, so it might even be important.

He opened the door to find his daughter standing on the doorstep, looking pale and tense, with a tall, dark man hovering just behind her. Phillip vaguely remembered the man as one who'd been there when Phillip and Jane had arrived at St Mungo's after the war was over. He'd been in the big 'minor injuries' room with Hermione - one of her fellow fighters, presumably. "Hermione? What's wrong? Is Martin all right?"

"He's fine." Hermione twiddled her fingers nervously. "But I need to talk to you and Mum. Can we come in?"

"Of course, love. Your mum's in the lounge." Phillip stood aside to let her pass, and then politely offered her friend his hand. "Phillip Granger."

The man - who looked to be in his forties - nodded, shaking the offered hand briefly. "Severus Snape."

That name Phillip recognised - one of Hermione's teachers, the one who'd worked as a double agent. "Pleased to meet you," he said, meaning it, and waved Snape through to follow Hermione.

"Hermione, what is it?" Jane stood up, frowning. "Is Martin all right?"

"Martin's fine. I left him with Mrs Weasley." Hermione looked dressed up, although Phillip had never really grasped the finer points of robe-fashion. Hadn't there been a party or something on? She'd mentioned it when she left. "I need to talk to both of you. Uhm... you should probably sit down."

Phillip and Jane looked at each other and sat down slowly. That didn't sound good. "Is everything all right, Hermione?"

"Well... yes and no." Hermione sat down on the couch, but Snape elected to stand behind her, looking oddly protective. "This is Severus Snape, Mum. I wrote to you both about him."

Jane nodded. "I remember - he was the Potions teacher, right? The one who was a secret agent."

"Double agent, Mum. But yes, that was him. He and I fought in the same group during the war." Hermione twiddled anxiously. "He saved my life more than once."

"Then we're grateful to him," Jane said slowly, clearly puzzled. "Of course. But why are the two of you here?"

"Because I didn't want you to hear it from someone else." Hermione looked up at Snape with an appealing expression, and he laid his hand lightly on her shoulder. That seemed to comfort her, and she faced her parents nervously. "Severus is Martin's father."

"He's what?" Jane straightened up so fast she nearly bounced out of her seat, going pink with indignation. "But he's your teacher!"

"He wasn't at the time," Hermione said steadily, her hand coming up to cover the thin one resting on her shoulder. "I promise you, Mum, while we've been teacher and student - both before and after I got pregnant - absolutely nothing has happened that couldn't have happened in front of you or anyone else."

Jane glared, and Phillip knew she wanted to argue. He intervened hastily. "Why all the secrecy? If the two of you were... well... involved, why were you hiding it from everyone?"

"We weren't involved." Hermione was brilliant red now. "It was... uhm... during the victory celebrations. I'd... Ron and I had had another row, and I knew he'd gone off with someone else, and I... er... I'd had feelings for Severus for a while, so I... uhm..." She trailed off, covering her face with her hands as she squirmed with embarrassment.

"There was a... misunderstanding, at the time." Snape had a deep, controlled voice that might have sounded menacing if the man hadn't been looking at Hermione with obvious, if restrained, affection. "Hermione believed that I would not be interested in pursuing a relationship with her, and I... had been slipped a potion by the Weasley twins. I didn't remember anything about that night, and still do not."

"Someone spiked your drink? Is that your excuse?" Jane glared. "A likely story-"

"They confessed in front of a couple of dozen witnesses tonight, Mum. That's how it all came out." Hermione frowned at her mother. "I found out that I was pregnant a while later, and I went to Professor McGonagall. You know that part. She said I could stay, it was all arranged... and then she let it drop that Severus had taken up his teaching positon again. I didn't know until then that he had, and he didn't know... well, anything."

Phillip winced. "That must have been bloody awkward."

"It really was." Hermione smiled ruefully. "I had to tell him, of course, but I offered him a choice as to whether or not he wanted to be involved. Given that I thought at the time that I'd seduced him while he was practically paralytic, it seemed like the least I could do."

"I was... sceptical, at first. It seemed a very unlikely story." Snape's fingers shifted slightly on Hermione's shoulder, and she covered his hand with hers again, smiling up at him. "As you know, I refused to openly acknowledge Martin's paternity."

Jane glared at him. "Drunk or not, you should have taken responsibility then. Not left it for nearly a year."

"I thought it better for Hermione and the child if I didn't," Snape said coolly. "I have a bad reputation in the wizarding world, Mrs Granger. A former Death Eater, the murderer of Dumbledore, traitor to one side or both - I believed that the child would suffer less for being fatherless than for being associated with me."

"And you don't think so now?" Phillip asked. It did, he had to admit, sort of make sense. Hermione had been sparing with details, when it came to the wizard's war, but from what he knew of Snape's history it wasn't an unreasonable attitude. (That didn't in any way lessen his desire to punch the man, but he was determined that at least one of Hermione's parents appear cool and rational, and it probably wasn't going to be Jane.)

"I do. But Hermione has convinced me that she is willing to take the risk." Snape looked at Hermione with a sort of half-hidden wonder.

"When we'd sorted that out, I tried to drop Potions, but Professor McGonagall wouldn't let me without a good reason. Severus did convince her that I couldn't actually attend classes while I was pregnant, but... well. We couldn't get out of it entirely. So we just sort of... made the best of things."

"We began to play chess on a regular basis," Snape said, looking just a shade nervous now. Jane had her mouth clamped shut in a thin, angry line, and was still glaring at him. "But as Hermione assured you, we were both careful to observe the proprieties. We played chess, and discussed her research and mine. That was all."

"Really." Jane infused the single word with a wealth of skepticism.

"Yes, Mum, really. The last thing I wanted was for him to get into any trouble because of me, and he would have if Professor McGonagall had had any doubts whatsoever about his conduct with me or any other female student. What we may or may not have done while we weren't associated with the school was none of her business, and she wouldn't pretend that it was, but while we were at the school it was her business, even if she didn't know about it at the time."

Phillip nodded slowly. He'd met Professor McGonagall several times, and liked her. Stern insistence on propriety while at the school sounded like her. "So what are you going to do now that the cat's out of the bag?"

Jane sputtered. "What do you mean, what are they going to do? He's going to damned well stay away from our daughter and -"

Hermione ignored her mother. "We talked, after my exams," she said, smiling tentatively at Phillip. "We were planning to take things more slowly, but now that it's all come out..."

"I have asked Hermione to marry me," Snape said quietly. "Under the circumstances, it seemed the proper thing to do."

"The proper thing to do?" Jane rose to her feet, fists clenching in fury. "The proper thing to do would have been to keep your hands and other appendages to yourself in the first place! The proper thing to do would have been to leave the school as soon as you found out and let her finish school without you lurking around! The proper thing -"

"Mum, I didn't want him to -"

"I don't care! You're only eighteen, Hermione, and he's an adult, he should have known better than to take advantage of you having some sort of crush -"

"Jane," Phillip said, laying a restraining hand on her arm.

"It's not a crush, Mum, I -"

"If he was so concerned with the proper thing to -"

"Jane!" Phillip almost never raised his voice. Both his wife and his daughter stopped in mid-shriek and stared at him in surprise. "Thank you." He glanced at Snape, and smiled ruefully. "Never wait for her to stop talking, if you're arguing, or you'll never get a chance to talk at all. She gets it from her mother."

"So I see." Snape smiled just a little himself. "I've always appreciated Hermione's willingness to speak her mind."

"And I said yes when he proposed to me," Hermione said, with more than a hint of 'so there' in her tone as she glared at her mother. "You don't have to come to the wedding if you don't want to, but it will happen. As soon as possible."

Jane's lip trembled. "But Hermione -"

"But nothing. I've loved Severus for a long time, and this is what I want and it's what's best for Martin." Hermione folded her arms and glared. "You were right, Mum... he needs his father." She softened slightly, turning to Phillip. "Although you'll still need to teach him about football, because Severus hasn't even seen a game since he was my age and he says he doesn't remember how it goes."

"My father was a Muggle," Snape said, in answer to Phillip's unspoken question. "So I am quite capable of functioning in the Muggle world, although somewhat out of practice."

Well, that was a relief. Hermione's former boyfriend Ron had been positively embarrassing to be seen with in public - the boy seemed astonished by the simplest things, like post boxes and vacuum cleaners. "Good. We don't have much family - a couple of distant cousins, that's all - so you won't need to worry about that." Phillip tugged thoughtfully on his chin. "Hermione... are you sure about this, love? You're young to be settling down."

"I'm sure." Hermione looked at Snape in a way that made Phillip's throat tighten a bit. She was obviously very much in love, and he'd decided a long time ago that he'd just have to trust Hermione's judgement when it came to the strange world she'd found her way into. Hermione had always been independent, and it was no good expecting that to change at this late date.

All that being so, Phillip offered Snape his hand. "Then you have my blessing. Take good care of my daughter and my grandson, Severus." He would have a little talk with the man later, but Hermione seemed on the verge of severing all ties and refusing to let them see their grandchild, something she could probably keep up for weeks, if not months. Best to make a placating gesture.

"I intend to." Snape inclined his head, returning the clasp of Phillip's hand firmly. "Thank you."

"Phillip, you can't be serious!" Jane glared at him. "He's at least your age, maybe more, taking advantage of-"

"He's only thirty-nine, Mum," Hermione said reproachfully.

Phillip blinked. He would have guessed the man's age at five or ten years more, despite the lack of grey hair; and wizards, so he understood, tended to age slower than ordinary people. The war had aged Hermione, but nothing like so drastically as this, and Phillip felt slightly more kindly towards his daughter's intended. "As I understand it, that's still quite young for a wizard."

"I can anticipate at least another fifty or sixty years of reasonably good health, barring illness or injury." Snape looked amused by Jane's obvious confusion. "Hermione, should she take good care of herself, can probably look forward to another hundred."

"I see." Jane deflated slightly, obviously doing the calculations in her head.

"I think your mother and I need some time to get used to this idea," Phillip said as tactfully as he could manage. "And it's getting late. Hermione, maybe you and Severus could come by for dinner some time next week and we could get to know each other properly."

Hermione nodded. "I know. I just... I didn't want you to hear it from someone else first."

"And we appreciate it." Phillip hugged her tightly. "We love you, Hermione."

"I know, Daddy." She hadn't called him that in a long time, and he smiled as she hugged him back. "I love you too."

"And bring Martin next time," Jane said, still looking cross but hugging her daughter anyway. "I don't like you leaving him alone with those boys. I know they're fond of him, but I always worry that they'll drop him or something."

"In that, Mrs Granger, you and I are in perfect agreement." Snape shook his head. "I wouldn't put Potter and Weasley in charge of a baby dragon, let alone something more fragile."

"That's not fair. Harry's always very careful with him." Hermione grinned ruefully. "And Ron does try."

"Mr Weasley has always been extremely trying," Snape said, and Phillip snickered quietly. The noisy, puppyish Ron Weasley had always irritated him a bit, too. "Although I concede that his unexpected support was... appreciated."

"Ron and Harry were very supportive, when it... well, got announced in the middle of a party with a couple of hundred guests." Hermione smiled fondly. "They've never liked Severus -"

"A charitable understatement," Snape muttered.

"- and if anyone was likely to object even more than Mum, it was them. But they were very sweet - Harry even made a public announcement supporting us, which should count for something." Hermione sighed. "We should get back, though. Mum, Dad, don't talk to anyone you don't recognize who asks you about us, no matter who they say they are. If anyone actually admits to being a reporter, quote the Secrecy Statutes at them."

Phillip saw Snape's eyebrow go up, and grinned. "Hermione brought back a book on Wizarding Law as it pertains to Muggles after her second year," he explained. "We'll get it out and brush up, love, don't worry."

"Good." Hermione stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Hermione. Off you go, now."

The engagement of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger was announced on the front page of the Daily Prophet the next morning, and rather more accurately on the appropriate page several days later. The Daily Prophet speculated extensively on possible Sex Scandals At School, but was shot down by a scandalized Minerva McGonagall who left no doubt in anyone's mind that she would have known had there been any of that going on. The Quibbler secured a short interview with Miss Granger, who deigned to speak to Luna Lovegood to the effect that she was very happy, thank you, and that it was very nice to have someone she could really talk to about things. To the great disappointment of the Quibbler's readers, Miss Lovegood failed to ask a single question about sex, passionate love, or the Suffering of the War, and instead went into some depth on the couple's research into the uses of rose-root in potions.

The Daily Prophet, naturally, was desperate to get pictures - or better yet, pictures and gossip - from the wedding. Ginny Weasley, a friend of the bride, happened to let slip the fact that the couple were planning a Muggle wedding at a church near Miss Granger's family home, and photographers were on watch around the clock.

The wedding was very small, very quiet, and held at Hogwarts. The teachers were naturally invited - including the new Potions Master - as were Martin Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, the Weasley family, and the bride's parents. A kindly wizard from the Ministry conducted the brief, traditional ceremony outside under a spreading oak tree, and the new husband and wife seemed quietly pleased.

Since no force on earth could have prevented the Hogwarts house-elves from providing a feast for the first wedding most of them had ever seen, there was a tempting spread laid out under another tree nearby. People drifted over to it, afterwards, and after kissing his new wife with an embarrassed but proprietary air, Severus followed one of the drifters, who had wandered away to look out over the lake.

"Congratulations," Draco said quietly, turning to smile at his godfather. "Really. I'm glad you're happy."

"So am I, obviously. But I am sorry that this is... difficult for you." Severus had expected Draco to make some polite last-minute excuse - he would have fled the country, himself, had Hermione chosen to marry someone else. But Draco had made no excuses, and the smile looked almost genuine.

"It is." Draco looked over at Hermione, who was talking to Percy Weasley some distance away. She'd disdained tradition, saying that it was silly to wear white when everyone knew she was a mother already, and had been married in dusty pink silk that in Severus's opinion made her look like a lovely, glowing flower. Percy, on the other hand, looked like the incurable beaurocrat that he was, albeit a happier and more relaxed one than usual. "It is hard. If she'd married anyone else, I don't think I could have stood it." He sipped the champagne that had been pressed on all of them by Filius Flitwick, who'd been telling everyone who would listen how happy he was that two of his favourite former pupils were going to settle down. "But you... I know you love her, and that you'll make her happy."

"I will do my best," Severus said a little doubtfully. So far Martin was kept happy by the regular application of lullabies and cuddles, and Hermione equally so by a steady supply of kisses and books from his personal library. He was fairly certain that they'd both get harder to please at some point, though.

"I know." Draco smiled. "I'm going to be appallingly sentimental for just a moment here -"

"I understand it's traditional at weddings."

"Quite. Yes, it's a wrench to see her married to someone else. But I'd cut off... well, not my remaining arm but at least a leg to see you really happy. You mean more to me than almost anyone else alive, and I'd give up a lot more than a hopeless crush on a girl for you."

Severus felt his face warm, and cleared his throat. "And I would make equal sacrifices to see you happy," he said quietly, embarrassed but sincere. "Had she loved you..."

"But she didn't." Draco sighed. "I'll be going on that trip alone, I think... I need some time away to clear my head and get her out of my system. I'll be back when I can visit you without coveting your wife."

Severus nodded. "We will both be glad to see you when you return." Hermione was talking to Professor Sprout, now, and blushing as pink as her robes. Severus made a mental note to ask her later exactly what Pomona had been saying. "She has no idea how you feel."

"Good. Keep it that way. At least I can escape this with my dignity intact." Draco finished his champagne and straightened his shoulders. "If you'll excuse me, Severus, I want to go have a word with Potter before I leave. He's been rather conciliatory, lately, and I want to take advantage of it before it wears off."

"Of course." Severus watched him go, feeling a little sad for Draco's loneliness and very proud of his calm resolve. A minute later, his arm was lifted and drawn around a pair of shoulders, and he looked down at his wife. "Are you being possessive, or do you wish me to appear so?"

"A little of both." Hermione smiled up at him. "What do you think of being married, so far? I quite like it - everyone keeps telling me how pretty I look, and later I'll finally have you all to myself."

Severus had been rather keenly anticipating that, himself. To Hermione's dismay, he had insisted on waiting until they were properly married before renewing the intimacies that he no longer remembered. If it turned out that she was put off by him when sober, or something, he'd wanted to get the commitment first. "You do look pretty," he said, reminding his baser urges that they would have to stay and be pleasant for at least half an hour longer. "I've never been particularly enamoured of pink myself, but it suits you."

Hermione laughed. "You mean you've never harboured a secret desire to wear pink and put flowers in your hair?" she asked, touching the wreath of tiny pink and white rosebuds that circled her head.

"Never." Severus had flatly refused to wear anything but his customary black to the wedding. His single concession to tradition had been to remove his shoes for the ceremony, he and his bride standing barefoot on the fertile earth as they made their vows. "Champagne makes you silly, I see."

"Just a little." Hermione grinned up at him. "And sentimental. Come down here and kiss me."

He did that, after checking that nobody was watching. He might be sloppily in love with his wife, as Potter put it, but there was no need to parade the fact.

Severus was resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be sleeping through the night for at least a year or two to come. Although the prospect didn't fill him with delight, resignation was made easier by the delightful and hitherto unknown experience of having his nude wife snuggled up to him while their son nursed. Martin was at his most adorable when drowsy and well-fed, and Hermione was especially lovely when naked. It all worked out rather well.

"This is so much more comfortable than pillows," Hermione murmured, snuggling back against him. "Warmer, too."

"I am happy to be of service." Severus settled his arms a little closer around her and their son.

Hermione snickered. "You did seem to be. All four times."

Severus smirked. Admittedly he'd had to start at mid-afternoon, in order to allow himself some recovery time, but he flattered himself that their wedding night had been quite successful. Hermione had certainly seemed very pleased. "I'm glad you were... satisfied."

"Very. Impressed, too." Hermione tipped her head back, lips brushing against his jaw. "I'm sorry about him waking you up, though. I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it."

"I don't mind." And he really didn't. Apparently even Severus Snape wasn't immune to the sentimentality of parenthood. Strange as it was, he found himself quite content to hold his wife and son at a time when all sensible people should be sleeping. "That looks much less romantic than the descriptions. Is he chewing?"

"Gumming, anyway." Hermione shifted, wincing. "It's bloody uncomfortable, sometimes. I'd be seriously considering bottle-feeding him if the research didn't indicate that he's likely to be more alert, cleverer, and slightly earlier to speak and walk if he's breast-fed for at least the first six months."

"Really?" Severus looked down at his son with some interest. "What research is that, exactly?"

That discussion lasted until Hermione went to put Martin back in his cot. Afterwards, curled up together in the bed Severus had occupied alone for far too many years, they were silent for some time. "Hermione?" Severus whispered, when he was almost sure she'd dozed off. "I do love you, you know."

"I know," she murmured, smiling a little without opening her eyes. "I love you too."

"Good." He tucked her in under his chin, and pulled a strand of her hair out of his mouth. It went everywhere when it was loose. "Go to sleep."

"Mmm." She sighed, and in a few moments her breathing steading into the slow rhythm of sleep.

Severus listened to that soft breathing for a long time.

(end)