An anonymous owl tap-tap-tapped on the window and Hermione opened it to give the bird access to the cottage's tiny kitchen. She untied and unrolled the owl-post. "It's from Kingsley. Ron has been moved to St Mungo's inpatient detox. He's scheduled to get counseling there, too. Apparently, Ron will agree to the charm under the condition that he gets to see me one last time."

"He doesn't get to set conditions," Severus snarled, looking up from the Prophet.

Hermione set the parchment down on the counter. "I'm fine with it, Severus. I'd like to give him the chance to apologize if he wants to."

"But I stay," Severus added, in a tone that said his presence was non-negotiable.

"If you insist."

"Come here," he said. Hermione walked over and sat down next to him at the table. "What's bothering you?" he asked, turning his dark eyes on her.

"We don't know for certain that Ron planned to throw me down the stairs."

"That's true. But it doesn't change the fact that he did. And we can be almost certain he planned to cause you more harm."

"What if he screws up and gets sent to Azkaban because of the charm?"

"You are having second thoughts." It was a statement, not a question.

"Maybe." She took a deep breath. "He didn't mean to do it. He would never have done it if he hadn't been drinking. The alcohol changes him. He's not really himself anymore after he starts drinking."

"I understand that's how you feel, but he is still responsible for his actions."

"I'm his friend—or at least I was. And he's hurting. I'm the only person who can help him navigate this. Harry and Ginny can't. His family can't. I was the only one left, the only one who could. And now I'm gone. What's he going to do without me?"

"Fixing Mr. Weasley is no longer your concern." He reached out for her hand. "You need to listen to me very carefully, angel." His somber eyes pinned and bound her, but his voice was kind.

"Is there going to be a test later?" she asked with a shy smile, trying to break the tension.

He granted her a half-smile in return. "A N.E.W.T. level exam. And it's pass-fail." He paused and the half-smile vanished. "Hermione, hear me. Nearly three-quarters of the domestic violence murders happen after the victim has left. Almost forty percent of female murder victims—two women a week—die at the hands of someone that is, or was, an intimate partner."

"But we never—"

"That's not my point. It doesn't matter if you were…" his lips twisted as if he had eaten something distasteful, "physically intimate with Mr. Weasley or not."

She leaned forward to cradle her head in her hands. "I'm sure for witches..." she mumbled from under her now-trembling fingers.

"Yes, these are Muggle statistics. Information is not available for witches, but it's very likely they are worse. I need you to understand how dangerous this situation continues to be."

"I was never really in danger living there."

"Hermione. If I have to throw more statistics at you in order for you to listen, I will."

She looked up at that. "But—"

He cut across her, raising his voice only a fraction. "A third of women continue to experience violence even after they have ended their relationship. That's you." His eyes were steel. "My mother never listened, and I lost her. I will not lose you. Use your formidable intellect and think. Ronald Weasley is a threat, even now. You, alone, cannot fix him."

"You can't blame him for being angry. His brother was murdered."

"As was my mum."

Sweet Merlin, Severus said mum. For the briefest of moments, she glimpsed the innocent boy in the photo on his bedroom dresser, holding his mother's hand against a future that would take her from him forever. Had her loss been the first thing that set him on the path that had given him fewer and fewer choices, until his life was no longer his own? The path that saw him whipped and tortured in imaginable ways? Branded with the Mark? The path that ended with him prostrate at Voldemort's feet?

Her heart shattered.

"You must never let your guard down. You must never hesitate to protect yourself. And if he breaks the conditions of the agreement, you must accept that there will be consequences for him. Do this for me."

Hermione looked at him, feeling her eyes prick with tears. "I promise, Severus."

Severus appeared in the doorway, eyebrow cocked, Earl Grey decaf in hand. He took a sip. "I'd like to make you dinner tomorrow night."

"Severus, you make me dinner every night. You have only let me cook for you once."

"Once was all that was required," he said as he regarded her over the rim of the teacup.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

"Allow me to rephrase. I would like to make you a special dinner tomorrow night."

"All right."

"We will be celebrating your nineteenth birthday, a little early."

She chuckled. "You mean my twentieth."

"Your twentieth?"

"The Ministry officially changed my age after Fourth Year when I used the Time Turner to attend double classes. Merlin knows, I suppose they will add another year once they figure out when I've been for those seven weeks. If I keep using it, pretty soon I'll be as ancient as you."

He smirked. "So the Ministry can officially change someone's age. Their hubris knows no bounds."

"They like to rewrite history. But even though it's supposed to be my official age, I wasn't allowed to use it to test a year earlier for my Apparition License."

Severus huffed laugh. "I can only imagine how pleased you must have been." He crossed the room towards her.

"I owled Fudge's office and everything. No luck." He sat down next to her and gifted her an indulgent smile as she continued. "I suppose you would have discovered that when we went to sign the bonding paperwork."

"When would you like to do that?"

She smiled. "Whenever you'd like, Severus."

"Are you ready for the world to know?"

"Of course." She kissed him briefly, tenderly. "How about tomorrow? We could celebrate both events."

"Tomorrow? Absolutely." He returned the kiss and raised an eyebrow. "But if you don't have any objections, I'd like to start celebrating now…"

The following afternoon, Hermione stepped into her green dress and twisted to appraise herself in the bathroom mirror. Had it been only ten days since she'd worn it for their first night together here, at the cottage? Merlin, how many things had happened since she'd worn it last? Today would witness yet another change. Today, she was on her way to the Ministry with Severus to sign the bonding paperwork. She was on her way to officially recognized as Severus Snape's wife.

She picked up her wand to spell her hair yet again and noticed that her hand was shaking. She took a deep breath. It wasn't as though she was unsure. She was as certain about this bonding as she had been about anything she had chosen to do in her life. They were already magically bonded, for Merlin's sake—the only thing left was the paperwork, making it official in the eyes of the Ministry. And she wanted to sign the documents. Badly.

She was…stunned, that was all. Shocked that he had chosen to bond her.

And, honestly, still a bit terrified.

As the green flames subsided and the familiar twist of Flooing faded from her skin, she gazed around at the Ministry's echoing, marble-clad lobby. It was nearly empty. Hermione turned to the fireplace next to hers to see Severus brushing himself off. Equal parts breathless, nervous, and eager, she found it almost impossible not to grab Severus's hand and run to the Office of Registrations.

He reached out for her and she interlaced her fingers in his. Merlin, her heart might melt. As they walked hand in hand to the lift, she felt the weight of hungry, appraising stares following them. Hermione wasn't surprised. Clad in his tailored dress robes, her bondmate was a powerful sight: lean, tall, angular, dark. Dangerous. Delicious.

No doubt his Order of Merlin, First Class had only added to his appeal.

The paperwork was brief. A wizard she did not recognize confirmed their magical bonding with a wave of his wand and set a quill and parchment in front of them to sign.

And then it was done. She was now officially Mrs. Hermione Snape.

They had walked back to the lobby's Floo Network hand in hand, silent as the gravity of what they had done settled into their bones. Back at their cottage, Hermione left Severus in the sitting room and went to freshen up. Merlin, what was making her skittish?

He met her as she reached the doorway from the bedroom to the sitting room, handing her a glass of red wine. "Hello."

"Hello."

"Is everything all right?"

She smiled at him softly. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry."

"Come here."

His arms pulled her in. "Processing what we did today?"

"I guess so." She pressed herself closer into his chest. "It's not that I had any doubts. I didn't. I don't."

"I know, angel." He dipped his head to brush her lips with his own. "I love you, Hermione."

How well he knew her: it was precisely what she so desperately needed to hear, although she hadn't known what was until he voiced it. She smiled as a tear escaped and darkened his white dress shirt. "I love you, too, Severus."

When they had their fill of dinner and the elves had vanished the remains of their meal with a few snaps of their fingers, Hermione and Severus retired to sitting room, fingers interlaced, wine glasses in hand. They settled on the couch, the cool leather driving her need to be nearer to him. He draped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close.

"Indulge me," Severus said after a moment of watching the flames twisting in the fireplace.

She looked at him questioningly. Pulling away, he lifted his wand from the side table and conjured a thick plush rug for the floor in front of the fire. He got up, and settled himself on it. "Come here," he said. "By the fire."

She obeyed, bringing the wine with her. "Hmmm…" she said as she positioned himself next to him.

"Yes…?"

"I was remembering something you said to me: I want to lie with you on soft rugs in front of a fire, and kiss you until we both can no longer speak."

"You have a good memory, angel," he said with a mischievous smile. "Apparently, I'm going to have to watch what I say around you."

"Say anything you like. Especially something like that. Just remember that I'll consider it a bit of a challenge."

"A challenge?"

"Yes. I'd like to see if we can. Kiss until we both can't speak, that is."

"Let's," he said pulling her down into the softness with him.

"You, my Potions Master, are one hell of a shag." Hermione took a long, lazy swallow of her wine, looking over at the lean form of her sweaty bondmate. He was still breathing heavily.

He chuckled. "Your Potions Master?" he managed.

She pulled her fingertips slowly down his chest. "Yup. My Potions Master. Mine." Maybe, just maybe, she'd had too much wine. She certainly hadn't had too much sex.

"And you are my angel." He turned on his side, propping his head up in his hand. He took a drink from her glass. "Hermione, do you know why I call you that?"

"Actually, nope," she said, her tongue no longer completely cooperating. Exactly how much wine had she drank?

"Because the first night you came to me in the infirmary, I thought I was dreaming, and that's what I thought you were. An angel."

"Merlin, Severus, it sounds like you write Muggle romance novels."

"How do you know I haven't? Perhaps I am the most famous novelist the Muggle world has ever known. I—"

"You mean infamous." She took another deep drink. "Wait. Wait. Let me guess your pen name…" He got up unsteadily and walked around behind her. "Severus, where are you going?"

"To get the dictionary you snuck onto my bookshelf. So I can show you what infamous actually means."

She giggled and drained the glass.

He sat back down next to her, the dictionary in hand. "Let me see…" It fell open somewhere in the middle, and he flipped through until he found the right place. He ran his finger down the page…and stopped as the text began to shimmer, until every single entry read:

Generous [jen-er-uh s] /ˈdʒɛn ər əs/ adjective

1. liberal in giving or sharing; unselfish: a generous patron of the arts; a generous gift.

As in: "Severus Snape is a generous man with regards to his bookshelf."

He laughed. "Nice piece of magic, angel."

"Do you remember…?" She rolled to her side to face him.

"In fact, I do. That was very clever." His dark eyes took her in, the smirk-smile making her heart skip. "Now where were we?"

"You were telling me why you call me angel."

"No, before that. I think you were right…here." He pulled her hand to his chest and dragged it downward.

"I see I will get as little sleep here as when you were in the infirmary."

"But it will be a sight better than playing chess, I'll wager." His lips met hers. "I would rather play with you than with a chess set any day," he said around his kiss.

Hermione groaned and rolled onto her back. "Rather play with me than a chess set? Merlin, Severus, that…that was terrible. Just terrible. The worst joke I've ever heard."

He smirked. "Not as bad as the one I was about to make about tipping my queen. I thought the better if it."

"Severus Snape, second guessing himself? A moment for the ages. Excuse me while I call Skeeter at the Prophet."

"I'm sure she would love to interview you right at this moment." He made a point to look up at her mussed hair. "I think she might insist on a photo."

She rolled onto her side. "Miss Granger?" Hermione imitated Rita Skeeter's nasally voice, peering at him over invisible glasses. "Is that Headmaster Snape lying next to you? Tell us, what is he really like in bed? A reliable source has told the Prophet that he is simply insatiable. Details, if you would, Miss Granger."

"And who, pray tell, would she have gotten that information from, if not you?"

"I'm sorry, Master Snape, we never divulge our sources," she continued in the reporter's annoying drone.

"Perhaps I can persuade you," he said, flipping her on her back and pinning her down underneath him.

"You think?" Hermione said with a wry smile.

"I have innumerable methods at my disposal," he purred, grabbing both her wrists in his hand and pulling them over her head.

"Do they include torture?"

"Oh, yes. Delicious torture." He smirked.

"Delicious," she echoed as she closed her eyes. "Absolutely delicious."

They had fallen asleep lulled by the softness of the rug in front of the dying fire. Hermione awoke to Severus stirring behind her. She rolled over to face him in the near-darkness.

He raised a finger to her lips to stop her from speaking, as if one simple word would break some deep, ancient spell that blanketed them. He simply stared at her, watching, entranced. He seemed curious to see what she would do under his unwavering gaze.

She knew exactly what to do. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she drew him closer and moved to kiss him slowly, deeply, keeping her eyes open so she could watch him in return. As she kissed him, they were one: his breath filled her lungs; his tongue was her own; his sighs came from her throat. She fell into the man touching her, body and soul.

A lifetime later, yet far too soon, he broke their kiss. "Hermione."

"Hmmmm?"

"If I…would you consider…wearing a wedding ring?" he asked softly.

"I would love to." She paused to try to decipher why he would have stumbled over the question. "Would you?"

"I would."

"I will take you to Hogsmeade tomorrow afternoon and you can choose one."

"That sounds perfect. I love you, Severus."

"And I, you."

Hermione looked up from measuring loose tea into the teapot just as the CRACK of Apparition snapped through the air. From the open window, she could see five wizards standing in their front yard. Harry was holding Ron roughly by the shirt; they were flanked by two stoic Aurors and the Minister. She recognized Urquart and Tudorov, the two wizards who had visited her in the infirmary. Kingsley was a step behind, his wand out, scanning the lawn as if he were expecting to find some dark enemy lurking there.

The boys seemed to be posturing. Ron wrested his shoulder out of Harry's grip and pushed him away. "Bloody hell!" he snarled. "Keep your hands off me!"

Hermione opened the door and went outside. She felt Severus looming close behind her. "Minister," she said, tipping her head slightly in greeting.

Kingsley pursed his lips but didn't reply. Harry stepped forward and grabbed Ron's shoulder again, pushing him towards Hermione. "Before we do anything else, this bloody arse is going to apologize to you." Harry turned to Ron, with a look of disgust. "You are going to fix this! NOW!" he bellowed. Fix this? There was no 'fixing' this.

"Ron, please come in." Hermione held the front door open wide. "Give us a minute," she said, pointedly looking at Harry. He stared back at her and gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

Ron twisted away from Harry's hold and stepped forward. He crossed the threshold, his head low, reminding Hermione of a beaten dog. Severus followed, shutting the door with a soft click.

Hermione hadn't planned on saying anything at all. But as she stared at Ron, she found she was unable to stay silent. "You almost killed me. Do you understand? You almost killed me."

"'Mione, I'm sorry. I know an apology will never be enough—"

"I never want to see you again," Hermione said, cutting across him. "Ever."

Ron lunged forward, grabbing her jumper. "Please, 'Mione—"

"Don't touch me!" Hermione hissed, hand automatically reaching for her wand.

"Get your hands off my wife," Severus growled from behind her, wand already drawn.

Ron froze. "What?"

"If you insist on making me repeat my statement, Mister Weasley, I will be forced to do something that you will no doubt find…regrettable," he said, soft as a whisper.

"Fine," he said snidely. Ron let go of her jumper as if he were dropping something vile. "You bonded the greasy git?" he asked, coming far too close to her face with his own.

Severus's wand was suddenly pressing to the soft flesh under Ron's jaw. "Up until now, my wife has stayed my hand with regards to you, but I think that time has now past…"

"SEVERUS! STOP!" Hermione screamed and took hold of Severus's shoulders, unable to put herself completely between the two men with Severus's wand at Ron's jaw. "Do you want to go to Azkaban and die in jail? Or would you rather spend the rest of your life with me?" she whispered. "I need you. Watching over me."

"I—" Ron began.

Severus didn't move. "Mister Weasley, I did not give you permission to speak. I do, however, give you permission to listen. Should you ever, ever come near my wife again, I will flay...you…alive. Charm or no. You will never make it to Azkaban. And should you ever need to address her in the future, you will address her as Madam Snape. Understood?"

Ron nodded as much as he could with Severus's wand still pushing into his skin. "We're done here," Hermione said as coldly as she could and turned to open the front door. Kingsley raised an eyebrow as his gaze took in Severus lowering his wand.

Ron stepped outside, his jaw clenched, his eyes, fiery.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "I am here, in the presence of these witnesses, to place a permanent charm on you, Ronald Billius Weasley. As a reminder, this charm will allow you to be monitored by the Ministry and requires that you remain at least one hundred feet from Miss Granger at all times. Should you come within one hundred feet, an alarm will sound in the Aurors Office and you will be immediately be taken to Azkaban without an opportunity for trial. Do you understand these conditions and agree to them in front of these witnesses?"

"Fine."

Hermione grabbed Severus's hand as Kingsley stepped closer to Ron. "The charm has a five minute delay built into it. Mr. Weasley, you will Apparate back to the Ministry with us once the charm has been cast. After signing some obligatory paperwork, you will be released."

Hermione felt Severus stiffen at the last. She gripped his hand tighter.

"Whatever," Ron said. Apparently, he was attempting to sound bored. Harry gave him a dark look.

The Minister trained his wand on one of her best friends. Ron turned his back to her. Former best friend, she amended. Harry met her eye as Kingsley raised his wand. "Signum Propinqua!" A ribbon of green light momentarily twisted around Ron then faded.

"It's done. Severus. Hermione. Good day," Kingsley said and they disappeared, leaving the front yard as empty as part of her heart.

Tea was finally brewed; plans were made. They decided to visit Hogsmeade after lunch. Somehow knowing she needed comfort, Severus held her hand throughout a nearly silent breakfast.

An owl flew in the open glass. She sighed. "I just want to be left alone." The bird landed on the table, holding out its leg for Hermione to remove a note and a small brown paper package. Hermione unfurled the parchment to reveal a vaguely familiar hand:

Severus and Hermione,

Congratulations to you both.

I hope you enjoy this housewarming gift even though, strictly speaking, I suppose that you will not need it any longer. Engorgio should do it.

Poppy

"The word is out," Severus said.

"That didn't take long." She peered at the brown package without touching it. "Do you think its poison? A bomb? Certainly it has to be something deadly."

"No. That wouldn't fit the description on the parchment. Besides, she'd know I'd be nearby and she wouldn't want to hurt me," he said smugly.

"Hmph."

"Give it to me. I'll do it." He took the package and placed it on the kitchen floor. "Engorgio!"

And then it appeared, bursting from the tiny brown paper to stand innocently in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Hermione laughed. "My chair!"

"Your chair." Severus chuckled and put his arms around her. "And I agree with Poppy. You won't need to use it ever again."

Hermione had wandered into their bedroom to brush her hair before their walk into town. Severus came up behind her, encircled her in his arms, and bent to kiss her shoulders. "Do you think we might have time before we go to…?"

"No wonder Skeeter's sources say you're insatiable. You are." She turned to face him. "Not that I'm complaining," Hermione responded with a slow smile and moved to lay back on the bed.

He undressed her slowly, teasing with each languid motion, pressing a warm, dry kiss into newly-exposed skin each time he unfastened another one of her shirt's buttons. As he traveled down her body, she closed her eyes. When her shirt was fully open, she felt him splay his hands across her body, moving them upward and pressing them firmly into her flesh until he moved them gently over her bra. She opened her eyes and shrugged out of both shirt and bra, and reached pull off her denims. She left the rest—little as it was—for him. Cocking his eyebrow, he vanished her panties wordlessly.

"Really, Severus, I'm not going to have any kickers left at this pace."

"Exactly," he said, gifting her a grand smirk and descending to her belly to kiss it.

"You want me prancing around Hogsmeade with no knickers on?"

"It saves me time. I can be assured that you're immediately available. Any time. Anywhere."

"Evil man."

"See how well you know me?" he smirked.

"You've become a tad predicable, you know."

"Have I? Perhaps I should change things up a bit, then." He placed himself gently on top of her, slowly pulling her arms up over her head then locking them in an unyielding grip with one of his. With his other hand, he cupped her breast as his tongue rolled over her nipple.

"Oh." She fought not to squirm. "You seem to be…" She gasped as he toyed with her nipple with his teeth. "…still fully dressed."

"So I am." He moved on to her other nipple. "Care to assist me with that?"

She hitched her breath as he got a bit more…aggressive. "I seem to be…" She tested his grip on her wrists. "…indisposed at the moment."

"Ah…" Instead of letting her go, he unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers with his free hand, and pulled them down only a few inches. She let her legs fall fully open and he entered her with one urgent thrust.

Deeper, she thought, and pushed against his grip. He let her wrists go and she put her hands on his backside to pull him farther each time he moved. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the feeling. Merlin, it was so…good. She heard her name tear from his lips and she cried out, matching his intensity. "More," she whispered as his breath finally stilled.

"As the lady wishes." He flashed her a smile-smirk and this man she adored—her protector, her lover, her bondmate—moved to place himself gently on top of her again.

A/N: I am no expert on domestic violence. The sources for the statistics mentioned in the story above will be listed in my profile should you need or want them. Love you all, -slbb