AN:I edited and updated the first section, so you might want to read it again, and with this the story is complete...I think. Let me know what you think!

For Severus, the six months had been torture; he desperately missed Hermione and desperately wanted to be in her presence, to explain what had happened to him and the curse which had made him quite literally insane. The retreat he attended was specifically designed for magical maladies; he met with a psychological healer every day to discuss his odd feelings, the desire to possess Hermione Granger in a way he'd only imagined once or twice when he'd been a follower of Voldemort, when he'd watched lesser men like Rodolphus LeStrange allow other men to take his wife, then punishing her when she enjoyed it too much. There was no immediate cure for the curse, so he worked daily with the healer to move passed the feelings, to learn to control his emotions again. The guilt of his leaving and not explaining himself to Hermione weighed on him more than anything. He'd written to her a thousand times but not sent a single letter, instead he waited it out, he realized that the problem lay in his fears of losing her and the bloody curse cast on him at some point in a raid. Daily, he wondered what she thought of him, and also what she would've thought of him as he attended hypnotherapy, yoga, and even kept a journal of his daily thoughts and feelings.

Once the curse was essentially reversed, he returned to England, to his job as head of the aurors, and immediately set about thinking of ways to mend his relationship with Hermione. He knew he could lay it all out, he could tell her that he'd been cursed, possessed himself by some evil magic and that she'd understand, she was after all the brightest witch he'd ever known and one of the kindest as well. The moment he'd seen her again, the determined brow of diligence at the meeting for all the heads of departments, how she'd greeted each of them with the same courteous handshake, how their hands had met for the first time in over six months, and the jolt they'd both felt immediately, as though their magic had sparked for a moment, recognizing their signatures as though they truly did have a bond. After the meeting, he waited for a moment to speak to her, but she was whisked away by her deputy, her eyes almost pleading with his to meet her later, and he did. He went to her office in lieu of the amount of work he needed to catch up on but she never returned. Instead, he received an interoffice memo asking him to organize a task force to accompany her to an emergency conference in Scotland, and though he couldn't think of the possible danger she could be in, he did as he was instructed, making himself a member so that perhaps they would get a moment together so he could explain himself.

They stayed in Aberdeen and he knew instantly that this meeting did not concern anything Scottish; Hermione was meeting with two dignitaries from Egypt and they seemed to have an agenda. Watching her from across the room, he noted that she was lovely, far lovelier than he deserved, and composed, any awkwardness from her school days was gone as she sat posed and commanding of the men at the table. Later, when he made surveillance of her suite, he was shocked to see her enter her suite with a man he'd never seen before, a young man who looked about her age and quite interested in her based upon the kiss they'd shared as they'd entered the suite, the young man's hand on her back, guiding her through the door before it slammed, immediately sending ice through him. Had she planned this? Had Hermione been vile enough to seek revenge in such an obvious and deplorable way? His mind flitted between jealousy, anger, and malaise; he loved Hermione, there was absolutely no doubt about it, but seeing her enter the hotel suite with another man unceremoniously brought feelings of fear and old hurt, from his childhood when people like James Potter had treated him so cruelly, but he tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Inside the suite, Hermione kissed her cousin Anthony's cheek and hugged him once more, so thankful he'd been able to attend this small meeting with the dignitaries from Egypt where he was a code breaker for Gringott's with Bill Weasley for the past seven years. Before she could even thank him for coming, she felt tears burst, seeing Severus again had finally caught up with her and she couldn't stop the waterworks from flowing.

"Oh dear, what's happened?" Anthony's incredibly cheerful and vibrant voice calmed her as she melted into his embrace.

"Severus, he's ended things and he's outside and I just want to talk to him. I'm the bloody Minister for Magic and I can't summon the courage." Anthony handed her some napkins from the minibar and then put his arms around her again.

"What happened?"

"He got all wonky, he started acting weird and I didn't really notice at first and then he missed our lunches, you know how I eat lunch with him every Tuesday and Thursday from my letters," He smirked, yes, they certainly ate lunch, "and then he turned up in my office after not seeing him over a week and took leave, leaving me with nothing but this." She unfolded the tiny note, clearly worn from folding and unfolding, 'I'm terrified I will hurt you.'

"That's rather endearing, really." Hermione smacked him and took the note back, folding it again and holding it in the palm of her hand, knowing he'd touched it.

"What do you mean he was acting weird?"

"Suddenly he'd stop in the middle of shagging and look like he was, I don't know, going to strangle me...and twice he pulled my hair so hard I thought I'd gone bald...oh my!" It hit her like the weight of thousands of galleons, he'd meant it literally...he was actually afraid he was going to hurt her. "I'm such a fool." Wrenching herself from his grasp, she went to the hallway to ask for Severus, but he was gone. Immediately, she wrote him a quick note, sending it with her owl, Tiberius. A simple note, 'Why didn't you tell me?'. Perhaps it was vague, but it would at least get him to her door, she hoped. But he didn't come, he'd left Scotland and her in the hands of the aurors he'd assigned to the task force, for the first time taking himself out of the picture of her safety and allowing his well trained people to take charge. He drowned in guilt until his irrational anger took over.

Even though he knew he was delusional, that there was no way Hermione had moved on so quickly, not when words had yet to be shared, details of gathering her things, if everything was really over, from his flat, but he was perceivably angry and hurt and that allowed the nonsensical thoughts to pervade most others. But, he knew he couldn't stay to watch it unfold if he was wrong. Instead, he left his best field agents to protect her and drowned himself in red wine from her family's vineyard in the Burgundy region, where they'd holidayed the year before. Before he could completely undress, remove the boots she'd gotten him for Christmas, he saw her owl perched on his stoop in the kitchen and read the note she'd written him in all muddy and perplexing glory. What did she mean, 'why didn't you tell me?'? Why didn't he tell her what? He felt too intoxicated to reply, so he set her note down, gave Tiberius a snack, then went to bathe, falling asleep in the tub only to awaken hours later freezing and angry with himself for not being more forthright with her and disappearing. Fear was the greatest motivator of his life, even if he dared not admit it most of the time. Taking parchment, he wrote everything down, every odd and disastrous emotion he'd felt after he'd been cursed, to the retreat, and finally to seeing her walk into the hotel suite with a strange man and though he felt justified in his feelings and behavior, he decided to be as honest as possible, to finally put on paper what he'd wanted to say to her so many times, that he loved her, that he missed Tuesdays and Thursdays, Friday nights with her friends and by extension his, trips to random markets to find the best coffee or cakes, watching her chew the tops of quills, the way she danced in the kitchen as she made tea or coffee, how her toes curled when she moaned in pleasure, how she kissed him, held him, and ultimately, loved him like no other woman had. When Tiberius left, he felt his pulse quicken, he felt the weight of his admission to her after so much silence and fear that she'd reject him, especially since he'd been unable to communicate clearly the massive place in his heart where she resided.

When Hermione returned from her last meeting with the Egyptian dignitaries to finalize the exchange of two prisoners, traveling from Aberdeen back to London, she saw a note on her desk and Tiberius perched expectantly so she ruffled his feathers and threw him some treats before taking a deep breath and reading the letter. It was from Severus and she couldn't quite believe what she was reading. She had been right, at least eventually, that he'd been literally afraid to hurt her, that he'd been cursed. Without another thought, she left her office and ran down the stairs to his floor, forgetting how tired she was from negotiations, forgetting that she was the Minister for Magic and probably looked quite ridiculous at the moment, well at least unprofessional. When she burst through his door, he wasn't there, and her face fell. Catching her breath for a moment, she turned and trudged back up to her office, stopping at the canteen for a ham and swiss croissant and some coffee, as burnt and nasty as it was, feeling her face still blushed and red from his words. She would find him, she would tell him that her feelings hadn't altered in the slightest, but not until she ate and slept, until she could formulate the words she needed to say to make him see that she understood, that she knew why he hadn't been able to say the words aloud.

The next morning, a Thursday, Severus arrived for work in his typical attire, his ego bruised slightly as he hadn't heard from Hermione yet. Entering his office, his secretary, a slight man named Peter Gregson with patches of balding hair, an odd Weasley red, informed him that the Minister for Magic had been to see him the day before after he'd left for an inspection in Blythe. Taking the steps in twos and sometimes threes, he made it to her office short of breath and lightheaded, perhaps he was getting too old to chase after her? He knocked three times, but found her office empty, her secretary and other staff gone. For a moment he paused, contemplating where she might be and then remembered it was Thursday and they often ate at the pub near his house on Thursdays, especially if it had been a long week, and since he felt like it had been the longest half year, he took a chance and apparated near the pub in an alley way out of sight of muggles and walked in, his breath catching as he saw her, her hair pulled back but still overflowing from the loose pony tail, the emerald fancy robes she wore for special meetings hanging from her because she'd clearly lost weight she couldn't spare, and when she finally looked up to him, he saw everything he'd ever wanted in life; a person to understand him, to accept him and his faults, to challenge his mind, someone who made him feel alive, to feel wanted and needed like he'd never felt, and to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wouldn't disappear because of an infernal, idiotic misunderstanding that had been entirely his fault, he hadn't been vigilant enough to avoid a curse, something he'd trained for the majority of life; like a phoenix rising from the ashes he felt the burning of his skin as he took the seat across from her, dipping forward for a moment to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"I received your letter."She curtly said in response to his chaste kiss. Holding both of her hands in his, he ran his thumb over her knuckles, wishing that he could do more than simply sit across from her gaping like an idiot at the sheer audacity that she'd still want him.

"I never thought I'd have to say all of that, even if in written form, I always hoped it was understood, but this curse made me an insufferable fool and there's no excuse. You've been nothing but warm and open towards me, even before you knew I was redeemable…"Shyly she reached up to him, crossing moving her chair and now they looked like those obnoxious couples who couldn't be bothered to spend a meal not on top of each other.

"It was understood, it's been understood and I'm sorry I didn't see the signs earlier...it took my cousin talking to me in Scotland for me to realize that something more than just insecurity was wrong with you. I should've known better, you're many things but not normally insecure." Before he could reply, she leaned further into him, taking in his cologne, the warmth emanating from his skin, the delicate cotton of his frock coat and then his lips, how she'd missed them.

"You would forgive me, just like that?" His eyes searched her for the gentle warmth he normally found and it was there, the flickering amber of happiness, everything he'd ever hoped to see in response to his machinations.

"What is there to forgive?" He shoed the waiter away, they needed another moment before resuming regularly scheduled activities. The pressure of her head resting against his shoulder made his lip curl upwards, he'd underestimated her again and though he was normally loathe to show too much in the way of affection in public, he pulled her practically on his lap, the leader of their world completely undone in his arms.

"I could've tried harder to explain and at least told you where I was going, it might've helped you piece it together...and that man was your cousin?" Her head snapped up, annoyed by the jealousy in his voice.

"Yes, Anthony Granger, your people vetted him before he entered my suite or didn't you check? As though I would've moved on that quickly." There she was, the fiery woman he loved.

"Pardon me for my misgivings." Quickly and chastely she kissed him again and moved back to her side of the table, motioning for the waiter and ordering. He admired her tenacity, the way she always ordered exactly what she wanted in lieu of some arcane female tradition of pecking at rabbit's food like a bird; no, his woman ate what she wanted and drank guinness, frothy liquid goodness.

"So, are we going to resume normal operations, Severus?" Her eyebrow raised seductively as the waiter brought their drinks and after steak pies they went to his flat where the only words uttered were Hermione's, a momentary lapse of reason and sudden fear.

"If you ever leave me for six months with no real explanation, I might curse you, you know." She paused only for a moment, thinking of the lovely things he'd written about his love for her in his letter. "I love you, I love the way you refuse to use any ink except that ridiculously expensive stuff from Dervish and Bangs, how you fold your socks in pairs and laugh when I roll mine, how you pretend not to love Crookshanks even though I see you give him treats, they way you whisper my name in your sleep, how you possessively hold me when anyone gets too close, but mostly, it's this, the way you treat me like an equal, as though what we've survived hasn't ruined us, in your flat I'm just Hermione and you're just Severus, and I love you, in case you didn't catch that. And I'm sorry we haven't felt the need to say any of this before, well I'm not sorry because I'd always thought you knew as well." Momentarily, her eyes filled with tears and she wondered if perhaps she'd said too much, but he reached up to her, wiping her tears away softly with his thumbs, forcing her to look in his eyes, depths and chasms she still felt she hardly understood. Nothing else was said between them, everything was in the open, and though there would still be some healing, they both knew that nothing had really changed aside from time, it had passed without them. Severus worshipped her body, reminding himself just how delectable she was, and for her part, Hermione reminded him what it meant to give yourself away to someone else completely. They did not return to the Ministry that day, nor the next, and barely showed up to Friday dinner at the Leaky Cauldron where Severus was greeted as eagerly as he'd always been by his former students and now friends.

While Hermione, Ginny, and Lavender were in the loo, Harry leaned over to Severus, who he'd seen as infrequently as Hermione over the previous months.

"I've missed destroying you in chess, do you have time next week?" Severus had expected admonishment, something from Hermione's best mate, but instead Harry was Harry, his top field agent.

"Perhaps, though I played every day when I was at the retreat, so you'll find my game far more competitive." Sipping his guinness, Harry's face scrunched in a contemplative thought and he thought that he should, perhaps, flick a nerve in Severus, force his hand with Hermione; he wanted to see her as settled as he and Ron were, raising families, but then he thought about the life she'd built for herself and wondered if she wanted those things.

"I can see you're thinking about something quite intensely, Mr. Potter, just ask." Severus said so lowly Ron couldn't hear him. He'd never liked Weasley much.

"It's just, do you know if Hermione wants something more? I mean, she has rarely even mentioned the future, but, erm, what's holding you back?" Severus thought about the garbled mess Harry Potter had slurred through, wondering if Hermione did want marriage some day and children, they'd never discussed it before and he felt, at least with children, that his time had passed. Hermione and the wives returned before he could answer, but his mind still contemplated Harry's words.

((()))

That night they stayed with the Potters at Grimmauld Place so Hermione could watch their youngest, Lily, the next day. Instead of leaving as he normally did, Severus stayed and watched her interact with the tiny girl, her bright red hair and green eyes almost mocking him as he surveyed them, painting a picture for Ginny who was apparently expecting their fourth child, another girl. It didn't seem that Hermione loved Lily more than the boys or other children they'd been around, which hadn't been frequently, at least not when he'd been with her. Pretending to read his book, Severus listened to their conversations, a three year old and his love, talking about so many varied topics he could barely keep up. When the other Potters returned hours later, Severus hadn't even noticed how much time had passed as the boys ran through, hugging Hermione as they passed and shouting hello to him, his little namesake stopping briefly to shake his hand in their pretend formality. Did he want children? Had his time really passed?

They left an hour later, after he scheduled tea with Harry for Wednesday and then taking her in his arms, the apparated together to her flat where Crookshanks meowed angrily at them for leaving him alone, but mostly at Severus for being gone for so long. After they showered and pretended to read for a while in bed, both still a bit of a fog from their months apart, Hermione finally turned to him.

"You've been weird today; were you perhaps hit with another curse?" She smirked as she turned onto her stomach and stared up at him, one hand resting under her chin and the other on his abdomen, toying with the drawstrings of his pajama bottoms as she spoke.

"Not a curse, just an odd question from your best mate." She stopped for a moment and then involuntarily brought her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating what Harry could've said.

"Was he cruel? I'm sorry, he and Ron are so protective sometimes, like the brothers I never had. If he said something mean, I'll talk to him." But Severus pulled her up to him, her soft body resting against his as his hands held her shoulders and his eyes searched hers. They were done keeping their feelings to themselves.

"He asked me what was holding me back, if you wanted more than what we have, that is." He didn't blink, he wanted to see her reaction, oddly aroused when she smile sweetly and raised herself up to straddle him properly, resting her hands on his shirt.

"Thank Merlin, I thought he'd threatened you." Continuing to play with the drawstrings of his pants, she leaned forward and kissed him, her hands flush against his skin as his shirt was pushed up, running her tongue across his bottom lip.

"Wait, Hermione, he wasn't wrong. What is holding us back? We've been together for five years and I've never even asked you if you want children, a home we both share, more than what we have." Climbing off of him, Hermione's brow furrowed as she sat crossed legged beside him, her mind racing and wondering why the chasm of things they'd never talked about needed to be opened so soon after she'd finally gotten him back.

"I thought you didn't want those things and I am happy with what we have, now at least that you're back." But Severus could see hesitation in her eyes, even if she carefully gilded her words, so he pulled her into his arms again, sitting up as he did.

"I'd give it all to you, if that's what you want." Without realizing it, Hermione and Severus were both on their knees, their arms encircling each other's waist, their eyes locked before kissing again.

"I don't want those things if it compromises what you want, Severus, we are a team, and if you want things to be exactly as they are, then that would make me the happiest woman alive." She melted into him, her body fitting perfectly against his before he flipped her on her back, landing as softly as they could on her bed, the frilly ruffles of her duvet tickling her neck for a moment as she giggled against him.

"I want everything." He whispered against her, his arms resting against her shoulder blades, his fingers in her hair as he nestled his body between her thighs, their hip bones hitting for a moment and causing them both to inhale quickly, but he adjusted and it was perfect. He knew nothing about their lives was perfect, not really, but resting with her in his arms, things felt right, the stars aligned; he wasn't a sad child from Manchester who needed pity in her arms and she wasn't an awkward, bushy-haired, bucktoothed teenager who constantly sought his approval. Life had moved on and so had they, with each other.

"Well, we can at least perfect our technique if we're to try to have children some day." She teased, reaching down to his pajama pants, pushing them down first with her hands then her legs, nibbling his neck as she did.

"You are a terrible tease, Minister."

"It's not teasing, you daft man, I'm just ushering things along, it's been six months of extremely cold showers." His laugh reverberated against her as he leaned in for another kiss, taking his time with her, enjoying her breasts pressed against his ribcage just so, the gentle feeling of her breathing and soft moans that escaped, the same internal battle she always played within herself to let him have control, and he was lost, so completely lost in her.

"It is my life's endeavor to acquiesce to your demands, dear." The moment their bodies truly met, she wondered how she'd managed without him, why she hadn't made herself go after him like she knew she should've, but it didn't matter as they moved together, she just knew he was there and would be as far as they were concerned indefinitely. Later, when they decided on a long bath and more guinness, Hermione cradled him between her legs, his head resting on her chest as they faced the faucet and she washed his arms, then his neck.

"I wonder what the world would think if they could see you like this, completely indisposed under my touch. If they only they knew how lovely you are." Lathering his chest, she reached around him and stole another kiss, happier than she'd been in months, in her entire life.

"I'm not lovely." He protested, stilling her hand for a moment.

"You are lovely." She felt him start to argue with her again, so she captured his mouth with hers, forcing him to stop. When he finally responded, she was completely surprised and amused.

"And you're the only one who knows." He felt her laugh before he heard it, tickling her thigh to keep the chorus of laughter going, and then he watched her smiling, the same silly smile she only wore for him. They both had a face they showed to the world and the real face to each other, and neither wanted it any other way. And though they'd both hated the curse that had forced them apart, strained things, they were both grateful that it had made them say the things they'd needed to say; it only made them more powerful, a couple others questioned though also feared. Both delighted in the odd glances and whispered comments, still refusing to answer questions even after their marriage made the front page of every wizarding newspaper, even after their first child was born, then their second and third, even when they both retired and moved permanently to York, they never once answered a single question from the press. Their life together was sacred to both of them, something found only once in a lifetime, and that was no one else's business, especially since it had taken them so long to admit it to themselves in the first place.

*lyrics from the song by Billy Joel which is also the title of this fic.