AN: You didn't think I was done, did you?
Ron, Crookshanks and Hercules were all perched on the couch watching Robot Wars when Hermione flew in the door with armloads of flattened cardboard boxes and a roll of packing tape on her wrist.
"Hey!" he said, jumping off the couch to help her. "What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you home for three more days. What's all this?"
She leaned up and pecked him on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're here," she said. "You can help me pack!"
"Pack what?"
"Everything. I'm moving out!"
Ron stopped and stared at her, his heart growing heavy and full of grief.
"You're going to Australia? Already? So soon?"
"Nope. Change of plans. I'm not going to be going to Australia after all."
He let out a tremendous sigh of relief and grabbed up her burdens, but then he stiffened again, as a new dread filled him.
"You're moving in with that Reginald bloke, aren't you? Hermione, we need to talk. I know things are a bit rough for you right now—"
"How long has the fridge been left open?" she interrupted. "How many times do I have to tell you it can't be left open?"
"It's not like it works, I have to keep casting cooling charms on the ale anyway. And don't interrupt me. I'm being serious! We need to have a chat. Now, I know things have been bad for you lately—"
"It doesn't keep things cool because you keep leaving it open! Honestly, Ronald. How can you be so into Robot Wars and have no concept of Muggle electronics?"
"Because if I understood it, it wouldn't be half as interesting." He flung down the armload of boxes he'd grabbed from her and set his hands on his hips. "Now stop changing the subject. I'm trying to tell you that I'm worried about you."
She came back over and gave him a hug.
"I know, and that's why I love you."
"Look, Hermione, I know why you started seeing Reginald, and I haven't bothered telling you my opinion, because you're a big girl. But if you're thinking of taking things any farther with that obnoxious prat, then I feel I have to speak my mind."
"Ron—"
He held up a hand to stop her words and took a deep breath. "If you really are that desperate, then I think you and I should try to make another go of it. I know it sounds like a disastrous idea, but you have to admit that the only reason you're with Reggiemuffin is because you're really lonely. Moving in with him is far worse than you and I being 'friends with benefits,' isn't it? I mean, come on, Hermione, even I think he's stupid. You're going to wake up one day and hex his bits off, and the poor sod won't understand why."
Hermione teared up and she threw her arms around him.
"You know what makes this speech even more amazing, Ronald?"
"What?" he asked, suddenly nervous.
"Knowing that you would tell Harry the exact same thing if he was about to move in with someone you thought was a mistake." She pulled away and looked up at him. "And that you would probably have that exact same slightly nauseous expression on your face if you thought he might say yes as well."
He smiled and hugged her back. "I might look a little less nauseous if it were Harry. At least I know he wouldn't yell at me to pick my socks up off the floor all the time." He pulled away again and looked down at her. "I just want you to be happy, Hermione. You deserve it."
She gave him a bright-eyed smile and sniffed. "I'm going to be happy, Ron." She sighed and pulled out if his arms. "I'm not moving in with Reginald—I left him in Greece—and I'm not moving to Australia. I will go someday and meet my parents again, but I have too many things to do and a new life to restart before I do."
Ron gave her a searching look, until the coin dropped and he understood. She blushed.
"He threw you out, Hermione. Publicly. Tell me you're not going back to that git."
"I already did. I spent the night with him last night and we cleared up a lot of things. We talked for hours. He admitted he made a mistake based on fear, and he told me he loves me." She looked at him with new tears in her eyes. "And I love him."
Ron stared hard at her in silence for a long moment and then he finally smiled.
"You finally showed him your tits, didn't you? You naughty girl." She grinned back and waggled her eyebrows. "And now he's asked you to move in? I told you they were above average."
"He did seem loath to let them go this morning, but I needed to get this done."
"Right. So where do we start?"
"You take in here. I'll start in the bedroom." She grabbed up a few boxes and the only roll of tape and wandered into the other room.
"I'll pack the kitchen first, that should take two minutes, since there's nothing in it but my ale. Does Snape have a telly?" he called after her.
"No, but I found a Muggle Pub that has Robot Wars Night, so we can just meet there with Harry and Gin."
"Oh, brilliant!" Ron picked up a collapsed box and stared at it, trying to figure out how to put it together. He gave up and transfigured it into a cardboard box that was already glued together. He threw a smirk towards the bedroom.
Harry was folding sheets in the kitchen of the Burrow when Ron's Patronus scampered into the room.
"Oi! I need help packing up Hermione's place. She's moving in with Snape. Bring more beer."
Harry's eyes widened in surprise and he looked up at Ginny, who looked over at Fleur, who turned to Molly, who sent a Patronus to Arthur at the Ministry.
"Well," said Molly. "You heard him."
Snape stood in the doorway of his room and stared at his bed. It had been an hour since she' rolled out if his arms with a kiss, saying she'd be back in no time. It already felt like a lifetime. His bed looked emptier than it ever had. His house felt emptier and more bleak than he could ever remember. His heart thumped with fear.
What if she never came back? What if something happened to her while she was out? What the hell had happened to him in such a short span if time that he would be reduced to this?
His life had felt like ashes just yesterday. Then she had come back and he'd felt like he'd been reprieved from a life sentence. She'd told him she loved him, and with that one little phrase, handed him everything he'd ever wanted. Then he'd told her he loved her, and with that one little phrase, scared himself witless. Oh, not at the time. At the time, he'd had her in his arms and everything was perfect. Now he stood in the echoing silence and trembled at the future.
She was moving in. Right now, she was packing her things to move into his home and share his life. What if she didn't like what she saw? What if the reality of having him, didn't meet the fantasy of wanting him? How would he ever survive if she left again?
He walked into the room and sat on the bed. He could still smell her perfume. Her scent. He looked at the pillows and reached out and picked up one of her hairs. He pulled it straight, seeing it was much longer than he'd have suspected, and then wound it around his finger.
He needed more than this. He didn't want to just take her as a lover, like everyone thought he'd long since done. He needed to find a way to make this strange reality he'd woken up to permanent and right. He got up off the bed and walked out the door.
Snape stomped through Knockturn Alley with his current life savings in his pocket and a vicious scowl on his face. He'd looked in several shops, but there was nothing in Knockturn that would suit. Everything he'd seen had had a previous owner and a shady past. He paused at the entrance to Diagon Alley and heaved a sigh. He'd hoped to avoid it, but it wouldn't do to accidentally curse the foolish woman now that she was actually his because he'd been too self-conscious to do it proper.
He pulled his hood up and as far over his face as he could and headed toward the nicer section of town.
The bell on the door chimed, drawing the attention of a young woman who had been polishing some of the wares.
"How may I be of service, sir?" she asked, in a chirpy voice.
He didn't reply, he just walked along and examined the cases until he saw exactly what he wanted. The price tag would leave him with only two Sickles and six Knuts in his account until next week. He jabbed a finger at it.
"Oh! That's a lovely choice! Goblin-wrought platinum. It's infused with Protective Charms to prevent loss, theft, or damage by anything except dragon fire. We can, of course, engrave it with a special spell. May I ask who the lucky woman is?"
He scowled and snapped, tossing his money purse on the counter. "None of your business," he hissed. "Just give me the ring!"
He regretted it instantly. She recognized his voice. Of course she did, she'd been one of his students. Everyone was one of his fucking students. He couldn't escape the plague of them. It was a stupid slip, and a sign of just how disordered his mind had grown. Now, because of his stupidity, everyone would know he'd bought an engagement ring as soon as the papers came out in the morning.
There was nothing for it. It's not like he would back down. He had no intention of letting her go, and he had no intention of besmirching her reputation any further than he already had. Granted, there was barely a stub of it left, but that stub was precious to him. He was determined to honor that stub, and make her his wife. He'd intended to act quickly, before she regained her sanity, but now he had to come up with a way to ask her before the bloody papers did the job for him.
He snatched the ring out of the elaborate presentation box and shoved it in his pocket, along with the depleted purse. He lifted his head, stabbing the girl with a disdainful stare and inwardly smirking when he saw her blanch and start to tremble. Maybe that would buy him another day. He sneered, and she gasped. Perhaps two. He whirled away and stormed out of the shop.
Snape was about to push open his front door when his wards warned him there were several people in his house besides Hermione. His mind cleared instantly, and he snatched out his wand before throwing open the door with a bang. The occupants in the house froze, as did his brain.
"What the devil are you all doing here?" he asked the sea of Weasleys that were standing around his sitting room gawping like ginger-headed fish.
"We're helping Hermione move." replied Ron, as Hermione and Harry ran in from the kitchen.
"Severus!" she cried, hurrying over and throwing herself at him. "Where were you? You weren't here when I came back, and you didn't leave a note! I was so worried!"
He wrapped his arm around her, removing her from his line of fire. "I had an errand to run," he said quietly. "Why have we been invaded?"
"I asked Ron to help me pack my flat. He invited Harry, and the rest of them came along."
"Hermione, you're entire flat is two and a half rooms. How much stuff do you have?"
She pointed to a single cardboard box, full of little cardboard boxes that had been shrunken down. He looked at the box, then over at the eight people crowded into his sitting room. He turned an eloquent eyebrow on her and she blushed.
"You have to admit they had good reason to be concerned," she said.
He grimaced and lowered his wand. Stepping around her, he looked around the room. Aside from Potter, and Bill's pregnant wife, his sitting room was swimming with subtle variations of the same concerned frown. Even the horridly ugly cat perched in his chair was ginger and looked fretful.
"Chose one person to say what you all want said, and be done," he said to the room.
Harry stepped forward with an irritatingly brave expression, but Arthur stepped in front of him.
"Severus, we've been among your few supporters throughout everything you have faced since the battle. Hermione has been nothing but loyal and faithful to you, and has had our full support and understanding this past year. However, you must understand that she's family. We can't allow her to be hurt again like she was last week when you publicly humiliated her. She didn't deserve what you did to her."
Severus opened his mouth to reply, but Arthur held up a hand. "I'm not finished. Now Hermione is a strong young woman, and more than capable of making her own decisions. If she chooses you, we can accept that. I just want you to know that she is not alone in the world. She never will be. If you hurt her again, you will answer to each of us, until none of us are left standing. Are we clear?"
"Crystal," he snarled in a tight voice. He stared at Arthur with a mixture of defensive anger and cloying humiliation. He knew he deserved this lecture, but that didn't make taking it less galling.
He turned away and looked at Hermione. "I will be upstairs. When you are finished entertaining your guests, I would like a word with you."
He turned away, and with a tap on the bookcase, he stalked upstairs with as much dignity as he could muster.
He heard Molly calling after him, but Hermione's voice cut across hers.
"Leave him. You told him what you wanted him to hear. I thank you for it, but surely you didn't expect him to stick around so you could pound the point home?"
The rest of her words were cut off when she closed the bookcase after him.
Hermione entered the bedroom carrying the tea tray, stopping when she saw the room was empty. The narrow bed was made up neatly, and the only other things visible were the chest of drawers, bedside table and the wardrobe with the mirrored door that stood slightly ajar. She stared in the mirror for a moment and furrowed her brow, noticing a black boot in the reflection. She tilted her head over her shoulder and looked behind the bedroom door. Severus was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his wrists resting on his knees, while his fingers fiddled with something. He didn't look up at her.
She pushed the door closed gently with her toe and slid down next to him, placing the tray on the floor in front of her. She poured him a cup, fixed it the way he liked it, and offered it to him.
He palmed whatever he'd been toying with and took the cup, looking at her curiously and then looking away.
"Why are we sitting on the floor?" she asked quietly.
"Because when I'm near that bed, all I think about is fucking you," he snarled into his tea.
"And I gather from the fact that we are on the floor that this is not a good thing again?"
He scowled at her and then sighed deeply, leaning forward and placing his cup on the tray.
"It's the thinking clearly I was after," he said. "I haven't been able to think clearly since the first time I walked into that patent office and saw you. I don't like not understanding myself, Hermione. I don't like being held to account by other people. I don't like being made to feel like a dirty old man in my own home. I don't like coming home to unexpected visitors. I really don't like the lack of self-control I've shown."
"I think you showed remarkable self-control, considering. You even let them confront you in your own home and live. I thank you for that, by the way. I thought they were just going to be blatantly nosey. I didn't realize they felt so strongly that they would actually threaten you."
He sighed and leaned his head against the wall with his eyes closed.
"Hermione, they were right. They had every reason to confront me. I treated you terribly. I might do it again. This is a terrible idea. I'm not myself when I'm around you. Last night, when I held you in my arms, it all seemed perfect. Today, when I was treated to Arthur's fatherly lecture on how to treat his daughter, I was embarrassed. Ashamed. Arthur is only a few years older than I am. I felt like a pathetic fool for thinking I could actually get away with claiming you for my own. You're half my age. I can't help but feel like you're making a dreadful mistake."
She didn't say anything at first. His words cut to the quick, but she felt his need to say them and held her tongue. She just shifted closer and leaned her shoulder against his. He didn't pull away.
"When it's just you and I," he continued, "it's easy. But when the real world intrudes, it all seems so tawdry and sordid. I've been so concerned with the effect all of this has had on your reputation that I haven't really looked at how it's effected me. Not my reputation, I don't have one, but my self-respect."
She shifted around on her knees until she was facing him. He opened his eyes and looked at her, and she saw a flash of fear before his face stilled.
"I don't care what anyone thinks but you, Severus. If being with me hurts you, then that is a large problem that I don't see a way around."
She lifted a hand and placed it on his knee, caressing it gently. "All I can say on my own behalf is that I know I am not typical for my age. None of us that fought in that battle are. Harry and Ron and I went through hell, and it changed us. Just like the hell you went through at the same age changed you. We are more alike than anyone could know. Neither of us are typical. So it only makes sense that our choices in lovers would also be atypical. I just don't know how to make you see that what others think doesn't matter to me. You freed me from that." She lifted her hand away from him and folded it in her lap. "I love you, and I believe you love me. I think we just need time. I think this thing between us is too new and fragile to judge yet, but if I am already hurting you…" She dashed at the sudden tears. "If you want, we can still be friends, Severus. I've made it work before. I'm sure I can do it again. But I will need time. It didn't hurt this much with Ron. Just being friends with him felt right. Just being friends with you feels terribly wrong."
She shifted back and turned to pick up the tea tray but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. He gently pulled her closer and leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, shifting his long legs until she was surrounded by him.
"I'm so confused, Hermione. I'm torn. I don't want to let you go. Ever. I nearly lost my mind when you left me this morning, even knowing it meant you were moving in."
"Do you need more space? Moving in together was a ridiculously hasty decision. This time yesterday we were both miserable without each other. We haven't even been together twenty-four hours yet. I just… I feel like I already live here, and I feel like I've been waiting a year to be this close to you. I'm sorry if I moved too fast. I really should have given you more time to process everything. I didn't intend to push you past what was comfortable. I guess I'm just more selfish than I realized."
She felt his rumble of laughter throughout her entire body and closed her eyes. She opened them again when she felt his arm wrap tighter around her. His hand was in front of her face.
"You are not the only one that is prone to being selfishly impulsive, Hermione." With a magician's flourish he revealed a silvery ring, carved with tiny runes and surmounted by a diamond. "This was my errand earlier. You left me alone, and I suddenly decided that I had to find a way to bind you to me so you would always come back." She gave him a shy glance and lifted it out of his grip, admiring the workmanship. "I don't want space, Hermione. I have been alone too long. I just want to be comfortable in my own skin. I want what I have always wanted, the world on my terms."
She turned to him. "I'll give it to you. I will give you the world on your terms, Severus. I would do anything to make you happy."
"Just give me more patience. I don't know how to be happy."
"Yes, you do. We've been very happy for nearly all of the time we've been together already. It can only get better if we let it happen and stay out of the way."
He took the ring from her and slipped it onto her finger, the ring warmed and tightened slightly.
"If we are going to do this, than I want to do it right. I need you to be mine, and I need to do this with honor. I want you to be my wife, Hermione. I don't think I can function anymore without you in my life. Just bear with me whenever the world intrudes."
She smiled and sank into his arms and kissed his scarred neck. "Yes. I will marry you. But not anytime soon, and we won't tell anyone. This way we can keep the world at bay until we are comfortable with our impulsivity."
"Yes, well, about that. There might be a problem."
Snape scowled up at the laughing woman standing over him and offering her hand to help him stand. He wanted to be truly annoyed, but he liked to hear her laughter too much to maintain it. He snorted and stood up on his own, winding an arm around her and pulling her back into his arms where she belonged.
"I'm glad you're so amused. However, I suspect you will be less amused when the press are camped outside our door again and we're back to being trapped in here."
She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I can't think of anyone I would rather be trapped with," she said, leaning up to kiss him.
What was probably intended as a simple peck became more, as he tightened his hold and refused to let her back away. He slid his tongue past her lips and greedily took his fill. The blood roared in his ears as he felt her go boneless in his arms, and when he pulled his head back, he smirked at the drugged look in her eyes. He reached down and scooped her into his arms, carrying her over to the bed.
"Let me make love to you, Hermione. Let me keep you here in my bed until the rest of the world fades away to nothing."
"I would like that," she said. "I would like that very much."
He settled himself next to her on the bed and began exploring the feel of her body through her clothing. He leaned down and kissed her deeply every so often but mostly he just watched his own hands roam across what had been forbidden for so long. Forbidden because of his own pride. Taboo by his own decree. Before, she had always been going to leave him someday. Now, she was his. Everything was changed.
He pulled out his wand and vanished all of her clothes at once and gave a satisfied growl. She squeaked, but relaxed when she saw her clothes reappear on the table next the bed, with her wand perched on top. She gave him a heated look and lifted her arms above her head and arched her back in a stretch.
"Do you like what you see in the daylight, Severus?"
He gazed down on her. "Yes," he said. "You are very beautiful." He caressed a luscious breast with his fingers and followed with his lips and tongue. Her hands came down and scrubbed at his hair, as she sucked in a breath. He felt her move and stretch and then felt a wash of magic steal over him and his own clothes vanished. He went still, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed, but her hands returned and soothed him. He lifted his face up and saw nothing but approval in her eyes as she looked at him.
"You are beautiful to me as well," she said. He surged up her body and kissed her hard, pulling her up off the pillow in an effort to show her with his passion what he couldn't with words. She wrapped herself around him like a vine and they both moaned from the feel of so much skin contact. She shoved herself against his cock and he pushed back against her, stroking it against her thigh by flexing his hips.
He trailed hot kisses down her neck and nibbled on the hollow of her throat, before descending and capturing a hardened nipple in his mouth. He lavished her with attention and reveled in her cries. He shuddered from the touch of her warm hands across his skin. He shifted lower and planted kisses down her belly until he saw her little tattoo. His handwriting, done in green ink, below and to the left of her navel. He kissed it, swiping his tongue across it, before pulling back.
"Do you know what that did to me? To see this? To see my mark on your skin like this? I wanted you right then. I wanted to strip you of the clothes that hid it from my sight and nail you to one of those desks with my cock." He slid his hands back down between her legs and stroked her.
"Oh, gods, Severus, I wish you had. I wish you had done."
"Would you have liked that? Would you have let me, even then?"
"Gods, yes. After weeks of staring at our fake kiss in the paper, I would have let you do anything to me."
"I used to stare at that picture as well, wondering what it was like for those two. Wondering if he knew how lucky he was."
He shifted down further and swiped his tongue through her folds, tasting her for the first time, reveling in the glory of the sounds she made as she thrashed on the bed, her moans broken by profanity as she ground herself against his face. He sucked her bundle of nerves into his mouth and she moaned and clamped her legs against his head. He rhythmically suckled her clit as he slid a finger into her and curled it around until he found that spot that made her cries drop an octave. Her hands reached down and began pulling on his leg and when he understood what she wanted he shifted until he felt her hot little hands on him. He grabbed her hip and rolled them both onto their sides until he could pillow his head on her thigh while he tongued her. He nearly shoved himself down her throat when he felt her mouth close over him, and he pressed his open mouth into her leg and groaned. She sucked him until he thought he would scream, and he buried himself in her folds to distract her before she ended it too soon for him. When her mouth slackened and she was down to just lolling her tongue against his cock, he circled her waist with his arm and pulled her up tight against him, repeating the rhythmic suckling while he stroked his fingers into her. She began to pump her hips, and he matched her pace until she came with a long, throaty moan that swirled higher into a glorious cry of release.
The first shudders had barely subsided when she nearly swallowed him whole again. She shifted her body away from him and attacked his cock with her mouth. He rolled onto his back with a hiss and slid his hands down and cupped the base, pushing it upright with his thumbs as he spread his legs and arched his back up off the bed. It felt like gravity broke loose, and he could fly apart from the pleasure.
She toyed with him, bringing him to the edge while he cried out and then backing away as he panted. Finally, he neared that moment when he would no longer be able to choose, and she would have no more control. He gently pushed her away. She immediately climbed on top of him but he sat up and grabbed her and rolled with her until she was on her back, pulling her legs up and wrapping them around him before he positioned himself. He sank into her heat in one, long, slow thrust. He pulled out and slowly drove into her again, groaning at the look of transcendent euphoria on her face. He started to increase his pace, fascinated by the way her face constantly shifted from a glorious agony, to a transcendent pleasure.
"It feels so good," she moaned, stroking her hands along his back. "I feel so complete."
She tightened around him and he let out a ragged groan. "Oh, fuuuuck," he whimpered. "Gods, you're—" he never got the rest of the words out. His eyes flew open and he shoved himself deep within her and emptied himself with a long shuddering cry.
*fans face*