When Severus made it into the garden it had been at least fifteen minutes since Hermione had left him in the kitchen and he hoped she'd not given up on him. He'd been caught time and again by those who occupied the large Manor and it had been no small feat escaping them.
He exhaled a breath that danced mist in front of his face when he found her stood in the cool air. Her back was to him as she stared out into the darkness and snow clung in little flakes to her hair. The moonlight shining down and the soft blues and pinks of flowers- kept alive by means of magic in the cold- made her beauty all the more startling.
She was striking, even though she'd warned him her natural appearance was plain, back when they'd been together, she was incorrect, of that much he was certain.
In fact, he was certain she could not be plain- not to him- if her life depended on it.
"Hermione?" He paused, just a distance away from her and she glanced over her shoulder at him before turning to face him, she was smiling serenely and he was struck with the sudden urge to pinch himself.
A dream, it felt like a dream.
But it wasn't, couldn't be, he'd been awake and active all day.
"Do you think we're alone now?" She smirked, took a few steps toward him and he shook his head, black hair grazed his cheekbones.
"I think that we are never far from being overrun with other people." It was his turn to take a step forward, he did so, cautiously. When she didn't move back he remained in his place.
"I think you're right. I only want to talk to you, perhaps it just isn't meant to be?" She tilted her head, curls weighed heavily with little flakes of snow falling into her face. She took another step toward him, their dance progressing in the moonlit garden.
"I can think of nothing in the world that is more meant to be than this." He took another step, her breath stuttered in her chest and she gave him a smile.
"Why do I have dreams about you? There is a reason, isn't there." Her turn again, she was close enough now if he leaned forward and reached out he could grab her. Despite that he held his ground, he could feel the snow gathering on his shoulders and tugged his wand from its holster.
"Leave it." He knew she meant the snow, was she not cold? The pink tinge to her cheeks and nose told him she had to be.
"You must be cold." He took another step, fingers still wrapped around the handle of his wand. He couldn't let her freeze, that would be the interruption to end all interruptions.
"I am." She wet her lips and took two more steps, she was closer than arm's length now, he could reach out and touch her, if he dared.
"Why do I have dreams about you, Severus?"
His heart thudded in his chest, now or never.
It was now or never, he couldn't risk another interruption.
"There was a time," he cleared his throat, "there was a time that you were mine." His fingers twitched to reach out and touch her.
"I was the friend Remus told me about, wasn't I?" Her teeth dug into her lower lip, chewing it ruthlessly and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and popping it free with his thumb. No matter how many years separated them it was instinct, as if he'd never been forced to stop the affectionate act.
"You were not my friend Hermione." His hand made its own way onto the side of her neck, his fingers hooked around the slender curve. He was growing close to his breaking point, they'd been partners in this dance for much too long now.
Her skin twitched and danced under his fingers and if the dreamy look in her eyes was any indication she knew what he meant.
"So those- those things in my dreams…" She cleared her throat.
"I can nearly assure you they happened." She shivered, stepped closer, and it was all he could take, there was no more holding back. She was here, she was in his arms, she was wafting her soft scent all over the place, overwhelming the flowers and driving him absolutely mad.
He dipped, paused, and smirked to himself, his voice a whisper that brushed over her lips.
"May I kiss you, Hermione?" She sucked a breath that deepened his smirk and made a soft sound in her throat.
"Will you mean it?" He swore his heart catapulted from his heart straight out into the snowy air. She remembered!
She remembered him!
His skin tingled, his nerve endings danced, his entire body was alight with the pure joy. Nearly eighteen years he'd waited, and finally, finally she was back where she belonged, back with him.
She wet her lips and he touched his forehead to hers.
"For the rest of my miserable life."
"Do it." She whispered, her sweet breath caressed his lips and that was the end of Severus Snape, the end of all rational thought. His mouth was on hers and he was tasting her, and it was the most incredibly complicated feeling he'd ever felt.
She was soft and familiar, she was like nothing he'd ever had. She was everything, rolled into one brainy, bushy haired witch.
His witch, his witch who brought her fingers up and fisted them in his hair as she'd once done. His witch who kissed him back with enough fervor to make him grasp her tighter, pull her more firmly against him.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips, begged for entrance and she granted it, her own warring with his as he allowed himself to enjoy the full brunt of his reality. Finally, finally.
He spun her, his hands on her hips as he guided her backwards to press her into the door of the Manor, his mouth leaving hers, finding her jaw and neck, open mouthed kisses and panted breaths as she writhed against him, little mewling sounds. So familiar yet somehow so new.
"Merlin I missed you." He exhaled, laying his head into the crook of her neck and kissing it gently. Her arms circling him were warm, and comforting, and gods it was everything he'd been waiting for.