There were times when things went along so spectacularly well that Severus almost forgot why there were certain aspects of their relationship they were trying to take slowly. Every day, Hermione gained more confidence in herself, and in them as a couple. They met any challenge that arose head on, and always together. It made it so much harder for him to hold back the words he'd been longing to say. To wait to take the steps that would bind them together irrevocably. To not reach for everything.

And then there were times when he would be achingly reminded of what hurdles they had yet to overcome.

It started out as a simple argument. They had argued before, usually light debate on the merits of some academic journal or a book they'd read. This was different. This was a real fight, where each of them had sides they felt passionately about. The conflict had devolved from simple debate into nearly angry shouts.

"Can't you understand how this makes me feel?" Hermione demanded. She stood across the room from him with her hands planted firmly on her hips. "You are continuing to pay me for things I would be willingly doing by this point in any other relationship!"

"I wouldn't ask you to do them in a 'normal' relationshipI I wouldn't expect you to keep the house and the garden and raise a child, especially not while working a second job, and not even if you were content to stay home with Atticus!"

"But it's okay for me to do if you're paying me?"

"Yes! That was the whole point. I wanted someone to take care of the things I didn't have the time or inclination for. It's a full time job, despite what you say. If you had come to live with me simply because of our relationship and not as the caretaker, I would never have expected you to do all these things. You aren't a slave, Hermione."

"I'm not saying you treat me like one! But you continuing to pay me for things I would willingly do for free makes me feel like a kept woman!"

"Have I ever made you feel like you are trading your body for your salary?" he demanded roughly, insulted by the accusation.

"No, and that's what I'm trying to prevent! I need my self respect. I need to feel like I'm not taking advantage of you!"

"Then quit! I'll find another caretaker for the estate. You won't be doing any work so I won't need to pay you."

"And then I'm supposed to do what? Sit on my hands all day and let you provide for me? All you've done there is take away the one thing I feel like I'm contributing to this relationship!"

"Why is it so wrong for me to provide for you? You're raising a child, that's enough work. If you want to do something outside the house, then get a job and I'll watch Atticus while you're gone!"

"I'm not turning you into unpaid help in your own home!"

"You think I would ask for pay to watch Atticus?" He snarled the words at her, the anger that had been building steadily starting to inch towards fury. How could she think he felt that way about Atticus? He'd thought they had come so far, were already becoming a real family, and here she was throwing it in his face. He was so focused on his own anger that he almost didn't see it. He almost missed the way she blanched and then her face cleared of all emotion.

"I'm sorry. You're right. Of course, you're right. Lets just leave things how you like them." This wasn't passive aggressive anger. It was complete submission. It repulsed him.

"Don't," he hissed, taking a sharp step towards her.

She flinched.

His face crumpled as pain swept up through him so swiftly that it stole his breath. She had flinched away from him. He felt sick. Part of him wanted to shake her. To tell her to snap the fuck out of it. He'd never struck her, never shown her any kind of violence. He wanted to be angry and offended that she would, even subconsciously, think that of him. But the other part of him understood. It had been ingrained in her to submit, to expect pain for her willfulness, to allow him to treat her any way he wanted. His heart ached. He couldn't just tell her to stop it and expect years of fear and oppression to melt away.

Instead of going to her, he stayed where he was and held his arms out for her. He wanted it to be her choice. She could come to him or not, seek comfort or leave the room to be alone. A sob escaped her throat and she threw herself against him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her close as she cried against his chest. He didn't try to speak, just rocked her and soothed her until her shoulders stopped shaking. Finally, she turned her face up to him, tear tracks lining her cheeks, but eyes dry.

"Don't you dare act the way you did with him," he whispered to her vehemently. "I want you, all of you, not a shadow of yourself that you think I would prefer. Fight with me, compromise with me, stand your ground and feel however you want to feel, knowing that even if I don't agree with every decision you make, this is what I want. All of you, all the time, unafraid of consequences."

"I...I know. I'm sorry I flinched away from you. I didn't think you were going to..."

"You don't need to apologize for that, Hermione. It will come with time."

"But it must have hurt you terribly." He didn't deny it, so she swallowed hard and went on. "You have to know that I trust you never to harm me like that. It just... happened. I didn't mean it."

"Thank you, love. I'm glad to hear that. I apologize for letting my temper get the better of me. I've come a long way from stalking the dungeons and meting out detention like candy, but I'm still a passionate man at heart, in the good ways and the bad. I will continue to work on keeping my temper in check."

"And I'll continue working on not falling into old habits in a fight." They kissed, reaffirming their affection and commitment to keeping each other happy. "So what do we do? About the job, I mean?"

Severus sighed. They were never going to see eye to eye on it. He wanted to provide for her, but he understood her desire to be independent. If only they could put a pin in the conversation until things had progressed a little further. If they were married, their Gringotts accounts would be combined automatically. The goblins couldn't care less about feminism. To them, families had one account. How it was managed, what they did outside the bank, was up to each family to work out. So once they wed, there would be no 'his money' and 'her money,' only 'their money.' And if she wanted to stay home and take care of Atticus without seeking any employment outside the house, then there was no reason for her to feel like she was taking advantage.

"Do you trust me, Hermione?"

"Of course."

"Then can you trust me enough to put this conversation on hold for the time being? I do understand your concerns, and I respect your feelings on the matter. There is no satisfactory way to solve this issue at the moment, but there will be soon." When she still looked uncertain, he played his last card. "Besides, don't think of it as taking my money. Yes, I had my small savings from the years I taught, but most of the fortune I am now in possession of was Dumbledore's. You did more than enough work for him during your adolescence to deserve some compensation."

"That wasn't work in that sense of the word-"

"I didn't think so either, when he left it to me. But it's occurred to me since then that this might have been his small way of trying to make up for... things."

"For ordering you to kill him," she guessed. He shrugged one shoulder.

"Among other things. Either way, whats done is done. There's no use fighting it. So can we agree to wait just a little while longer before we have this discussion again?" She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "And when we do, if it devolves the way this one did, you're going to stand toe to toe with me and fight?"

"Absolutely," she promised. He smiled, kissing the top of her head.

"Good."