AN: This was one of the lost chapters, so if you see extra rough patches, just squint your eyes and read faster until you get past it...

Hermione woke to the sound of Severus's stomach growling, her cat scratching at the door, and twigs snapping in the neglected shrubs by the front door. She sat up, but he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and dragged her back under the blankets.

"It's the press," he mumbled, nuzzling her ear. "They trampled that bush every morning the last time they parked outside. You'd think they'd remember they can't see in the windows from one day to the next."

"Ah. Then we failed," she sighed. "Hours and hours of lovemaking and the world still exists. I thought for sure it had gone away."

"Ignore them and they will," he said, restraining another attempt to get up.

"Yes, but the cat won't, and your stomach won't fill itself."

"That's true."

"I would have thought they would have better things to do, now that Skeeter in is Azkaban."

"Cut off one head and three more take its place," he said, while stroking her hip.

She smiled and rolled over and kissed the end of his nose. "Have I told you that you're marvelous?"

"Once or twice at the top of your lungs last night," he answered smugly.

"Then I'm adding 'you look positively adorable when you wake up in the morning' as well."

And he did, with his hair all over the place, and his eyes softened by sleep. The creases from the pillow added a whimsical pattern on his stubbled cheeks. Somehow, in all her wild imaginings of being with this man, she'd never imagined a Severus Snape who woke up rumpled.

He pulled her closer and palmed a breast, pushing his morning erection against her.

"Oh, no you don't" she said. "I'm practically bowlegged after last night, as is."

"You said you would do anything to make me happy," he said, with a smirk.

"Yes, and food will make you happier in the long run. So will toothpaste. Trust me."

He chuckled and with a final, smacking kiss on her shoulder, he let her go.

"Fine. Go find something to feed me, wench."

She rolled out of the bed and pulled open a drawer and grabbed one of his t-shirts, and threw on her jeans commando-style. "Did you want to shower now? Or wait until after breakfast and shower together."

"I'll take option two," he said, pulling the blankets back up over his shoulders.

"Fine. You flop around with the pillows. I'll just head to the kitchen and get right on feeding my men folk, like a good little wench."

"We all have our responsibilities," was his mumbled reply.

She giggled and headed out the bedroom door.

He watched her leave through partially closed lashes, scolding himself for the sudden flare of panic and loneliness. She was just going to the kitchen, for Merlin's sake. He tried to relax. Tried to just let the lazy morning lethargy lull him back to sleep. They'd not slept much the night before and he was sore in several places. His legs felt like he'd been doing his rounds at Hogwarts at a dead run several times over.

If he was going to have a twenty-year-old wife, he was going to have to get in better shape. Not that he'd done a bad job of it. She wasn't completely joking about ending up bowlegged. He'd made love to her twice and flat out shagged her IQ lower twice more. He'd never been so insatiable before—nor as needy—but all that sex took its toll.

Getting in better shape was merely one of the changes he needed to make. He flipped back the blankets and looked around the room.

Hermione stared hard at the cooker while Crookshanks wound his way around her ankles in thanks. She'd decided to give in and cook Snape the full English, shuddering at the sight of the frying slices of black pudding and the baked beans. She detested them, but she wanted to indulge him. It was his favorite, and after the Weasley invasion yesterday, he deserved it. The least she could do was let him eat his breakfast without his usual scorch marks. He really was a terrible cook.

An owl scratched at the window and she opened it, taking the morning paper and giving the bird a treat. Hercules chirruped angrily on his perch. He was rather territorial about his treats. She stroked his head gently before opening the paper. She read the headlines and skimmed the accompanying articles, before slamming it down.

She eyeballed the frying nightmare, decided she had just enough time, and then ran into the living room. She threw open the door, gave the photographer a left-handed salute, and slammed it again. Her dash back into the kitchen was interrupted by Severus, who came flying down the stairs in just his trousers. He was holding his robes, a bit of white cloth, and his wand.

"What the hell was that?" he said.

"An editorial reply," she answered as she bounced off him and raced around him to the kitchen.

He followed her in response to her stream of profanity.

"I ruined it!" she wailed.

He glanced at the food frying in the pans.

"It looks fine to me," he said.

"That's the problem," she huffed.

He dropped his robes on a chair and reached to grab down the plates, accidentally elbowing her in the head. "Sorry," he muttered, rubbing her scalp.

She loaded up his plate with the full affair, and then filled her own with her choices, beans and black pudding were notably absent.

He poured the tea, as she reached over and snatched up the scrap of white cloth. He scowled at her as she spread it out to reveal an infant-sized, white linen, button-down shirt.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" she said with a laugh.

"Oh, very droll," he replied. "For your information, I was trying to make room for your own clothing and cannot seem to reverse the charm."

"Ah. I understand. Things just seem to go wrong when we indulge in that foolish wand waving, don't they."

His scowl deepened. "Can you fix it, or not? I will need to run to the tailor, if you can't."

"Oh, I can fix it. But I don't think I will. I rather like you walking around the house half-naked."

He smirked at her. "I'll just take my t-shirt back then," he said, setting his fork down carefully and shifting in his chair.

She snatched up her wand and shrank the t-shirt until it was skin-tight on her. His eyes bulged before he could recover himself.

"Don't think I won't vanish every stitch of clothing you own in retaliation," he muttered, as she laughed.

"How is your food?" she asked, changing the subject.

"It's perfect, thank you. I've not had as good in years."

She was deeply touched, hearing the compliment roll off his tongue so easily. Her eyes watered and she looked down at her plate, shoveling in a mouthful of egg.

"What was the business with the slamming door?" he asked.

She jutted her chin at the paper while she chewed, and he picked it up and read it.

"This is only what we expected," he said, in a serious voice. "I did tell you that they would know sooner rather than later."

"Oh, I don't have a problem with them knowing you got engaged. I had a serious problem with all the speculation over who the woman could be. They never mentioned me as a possibility at all. So I showed them the ring and slammed the door."

He stared at her and his eyes lit up. "You were jealous?"

"Don't be absurd. How could I be jealous? There is no other woman."

"Then why did it bother you? I think you were jealous of a woman who doesn't even exist. Which is fine by me. It evens the score a bit. I had to deal with you being with Reginald all those months."
"You told me to go find someone. You can't blame me for listening to you."

"Yes, but if you were only going to do what I say once, that didn't actually have to be the time, did it?"

She tried to keep her face straight, but the giggle burst through anyway. "We really are a bit pathetic, aren't we?" she said, with a smile. She enlarged his shirt and passed it back to him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said loftily, as he took his shirt back and slipped it on.

Severus jumped up from his chair in the living room to answer the knock on the door. The howlers had been arriving en masse since Hermione had appeared in the paper flashing her ring, with a smug sneer and a rude gesture, but as yet, no one had been foolhardy enough to come to his door.

He pulled out his wand and threw the door open with a hex ready, only to stop and stare at Ronald Weasley. He had his back to the door and was loudly castigating the group of reporters that were peppering him with their typical, puerile questions.

His invective was rather colorful, if crude, and Snape admired his attempt. Not enough to lower his wand when Weasley turned around.

"Easy, Snape. I come bearing gifts."

"Why?"

Weasley gave him a frown. "Didn't you pop the question to Hermione?"

"I spend the better part of my day asking her questions, to which I rarely get satisfying answers. However, if you are asking if we are to be married, the answer is 'yes'."

"Well then, that deserves a bit of celebration, doesn't it?" He held up the packages in his arms. "Thus the gifts," he added, in a mockingly pedantic tone.

"I suppose you think that will let you in?"

"Look. I know my family was a little overwhelming the other day, but you know you were a git, and you know you had it coming. Let's just put in behind us, but not actually forget it, ay? Let me in, or I give my mum's biscuits to the press here."

Snape scowled and stepped aside.

"Hermione is not here," he said, as he closed the door.

"Where's she gone off to?"

"Ikea."

"What's that?"

"I haven't a clue. I suppose you want tea?"

"Yup."

"Fine."

Tea was made, biscuits were plated, and silence descended.

Finally, Weasley set his cup on the saucer and sat back.

"You know if Harry and I we can accept you because she's happy, you could try and do the same."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And what would that entail?"

"Well, hexing us is right out. After that, I think the rules are pretty blurry, so I'll let you chose what's best."

"How accommodating of you." Snape sipped his tea and set it down. "What are the chances of you actually giving notice before you show up on our doorstep in the future?"

Ron smiled.

"I'm sure we could work something out." He pulled a bottle of Armagnac out of his bag of gifts. "The rest of these are from the family, and I'll let you open them together, but this one is for you, from me. I just wanted to let you know I am really glad you finally came to your senses. Hermione has been really hurting these last couple of years, and nothing Harry or I did really helped. You turned her around, gave her back her confidence, and gave her even more to boot. You can hate me all you want, within respectable limits, but as long as you treat her right, I won't care."

Snape stared at the bottle in silence for a long moment before regarding the younger wizard.

"Thank you, Weasley," he said taking the bottle of brandy and setting it off to the side. "That was a very kind gesture, and I appreciate your candor."

Ron smiled and reached for another biscuit. "There, that wasn't too painful was it? No one died, anyway."

Snape watched him eat the last of his favorite biscuits. "You haven't left yet. There's still time."

Snape finished wiping down his bench and turned to watch her, as she worked at the ornate desk that had become hers. Again he felt that fluttering in his chest that was a queer mixture of love and panic. He was terrified by just how much this small woman had become so important to him. It had only been a few days, but the euphoria never quite overwhelmed the constant awareness of his vulnerability. He knew she loved him back. He just couldn't bring himself to trust that someone so young always would. Surely she would set him aside sooner or later. Everyone always did.

She turned her head and smiled at him when she caught him watching, and his chest fluttered again.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"I was wondering what you were working on."

"Oh! Remember that dummy foundation I set up to ask for an independent inquiry?" He made a vague gesture. He never had a clue what she was talking about half the time, when she spoke about their foundations, corporations and whatnot. She smirked at him. "Anyway, they sent me their proposals for the educational reforms they think are needed. It would seem that they have found serious problems with the Board of Governors. Their power over Hogwarts has been found to be intrusive and open to corruption and graft. They recommend the Minister and the Wizengamot review their charter and make some serious changes. They think Pascal Richter needs to be replaced immediately."

"What a shame."

"Yes isn't it? I think I shall thank them for their time and ask them to go ahead and take their findings to the Minister as soon as possible."

"Minerva will be pleased."

"That's a bonus."

"So who else is on your list?"

"What list?"

"Of people to get your revenge on? We own nearly ten percent of the Wizarding world. Rita Skeeter is in jail. Instead of not being able to get a decent job, we now have over two hundred employees. You've just taken down the people who denied you your apprenticeship. What's left?"

She kicked back in her chair. "I don't know. I could take out more reporters, but as you said, more will just show up. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"No. My enemies are dead." He walked over to her and pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her. "I find that revenge is curiously unsatisfying. The only windmill left to tilt at is public opinion, and I find myself uninterested in that lately."

"True. I find it hard to hold a grudge when I'm so happy."

"Are you happy?" he asked suddenly.

She looked at him and his chest constricted at how beautiful she was. "Yes, Severus. I'm very happy."

She kissed him, and he felt the world slide back into place.

That first week was one of the best Hermione could ever remember enjoying. She and Severus had been nearly inseparable, as they organized room for her things, as best they could, reestablished their working relationship, and made love in every part of the house, whenever the mood struck them. Her personal favorite location was on top of his potions bench. She suspected he liked that place best as well, but it was beneath him to admit such things.

As if sensing they were boringly happy, the press gave up and went home after a few days.

They'd even spent a nice evening at the Burrow, where Severus was remarkably restrained.

Arthur and Molly offered to host the wedding, and Snape had grimaced, but hadn't actually rejected the idea. She was waiting to feel him out on it again. After all the changes they had been through in the last two weeks, setting a date didn't seem like the way to take things slowly after their explosive beginning.

They slowly settled into a happy routine.

It was so happy, in fact, that it wasn't until the third week of living together that Hermione started to realize that something was wrong with him.

Bonus points if you know what's wrong before the next chapter drops...