AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
For the first time in his life, Severus awoke in the arms of the woman he loved above all else. Despite the falling snow and the dying fireplace, he was warm. He buried his head in her tangled mess of hair and pressed her against him tighter. After a lifetime of rejection and despair he'd ever find love, he'd found a home, someone who wanted him by her side. Hermione was foolish for loving him, but in that moment it didn't matter. All he wanted was to spend every morning with her in his arms, and the rest of his life making her smile.
The moment was broken by a soft groan and a sharp whine. His stomach sank, wondering if he'd harmed her last night. Was the reality that she'd slept with a surly man almost two decades her senior sinking in? If so, could he accept her wanting to pretend nothing had occurred? Would he need to relegate last night to a cherished memory, or was there a chance she meant it when she said she would always love him?
"Good morning," she stretched before moaning and flinching.
"Good morning." He swallowed. It had been a few months since he'd seen so much pain in her eyes. He had attempted to be gentle with her, but what if he'd lost control? He couldn't live with the thought of harming her, not when she was the only woman who'd ever cared for him as much as she did.
Before Severus could say another word, a spasming leg touched his. It was shaking much more intensely than it had the night before.
"It's snowing outside, isn't it?" Hermione winced.
He glanced out the window. Falling snow obstructed his vision of the grounds.
"Yes," he returned his attention to her, the cause of her pain dawning upon him.
"I thought so," she forced her eyes open. "I'm sorry."
"What are you apologizing for?"
"This isn't how you want to spend the morning, with a woman writhing in pain."
"No, no," he whispered. "This is how I want to spend the morning, with you."
"This is how I want to spend the morning too." She flinched.
"Please, be honest with me was I the one who caused you pain?"
"No, you didn't hurt me at all," she gave him as much of a smile as she could. "My pain is only caused by the falling snow. You played no part in it."
"Good," he ran a hand through her hair. "I wanted last night to be perfect for you."
"It was," she took a sharp breath as he leg spasmed. "You were amazing, gentle, and loving. It's everything I wanted and dreamed of."
"I could say the same of you." He kissed her on the cheek.
"All that being said, you must want breakfast," she raised her head before wincing again. "I would make you breakfast, but I can hardly move. All I want to do is stay in bed."
"Then stay in bed," he answered.
"No," she attempted to rise, only to plop down under the force of her spasming leg. "You want breakfast, and I need to make it."
"Food is the last thing on my mind," he answered. "Your well-being is at the forefront of my mind. If you need to rest, then rest"
"Thank you, but," she shook her head. "I can't make you breakfast, not today."
"That is fine." He sat. "Would you like me to make you breakfast?"
"No," she mumbled as her muscles tightened again. "You don't need to burden yourself."
"It would be no burden."
"You don't need to make anything for me."
"I won't, but," He examined her before humming. "It would not hurt for you to have some sustenance. Do you have any fruit, or should I get some from my dungeons?"
"No."
"I can get a few bananas and apples then." He removed the blankets from his torso. "Those tend to help you when you're in pain."
"No," she argued. "You shouldn't make breakfast."
"With all due respect, you need to eat or else you'll get famished at the end of this episode. I've been your friend long enough to know that much."
"No," she raised herself. "I'm supposed to make you breakfast the morning after love making, not vice versa. You're supposed to relax, take a shower, read a book, do something while I make breakfast."
He raised an eyebrow. "Who told you that?"
"Isn't that what men expect? Don't you expect to awaken and have a woman make you breakfast and wait on you the rest of the morning?"
"No, I expect to wake up and either go to the Great Hall for breakfast, or get my own food."
"But you want me to make breakfast for you."
"Not if you are in pain and it further hurts you to move."
She stared at him, calculating how serious he was. "You still want me to cook something."
"No, I don't."
"Don't lie to me! You need a woman who will make you breakfast in the morning."
"Why would I need that? I have been making my own breakfast for over four decades. I see no reason this morning should be different."
"This morning it may be fine," a tear came to her eye. "But in a year it won't be. It will grow tiring for you to leave your warm bed and make breakfast every morning."
"I've been leaving a warm bed to make breakfast for years. I can do it for a few more decades."
"Don't lie to me! You are growing more agitated by the second."
"You're right, I am becoming more agitated," he replied. "I have no idea why you believe I'm incapable of making my own food."
"It isn't about you being incapable of anything, but you expect more."
"Who told you that?"
"Don't you expect more?"
"I expect you to get rest while I get us some food."
"That is what you expect this morning. Perhaps in a year you will expect to make breakfast. Over the years, you will tire of it. At some point, you will want someone to make you scrambled eggs."
"I despise scrambled eggs."
"You haven't had mine. If you did, you'd want me to cook them."
"I prefer pancakes or waffles."
"Fine, you can have pancakes, waffles or both. You will want me to make those for you someday."
"Hermione," he took a deep breath and put the blankets over his torso. "We're talking past each other. I am discussing my ability to get my own food whereas you are discussing something very different. Please, stop hiding behind breakfast and tell me your real concern."
"This is your new reality," a tear fell. "You are tying yourself to a woman who wakes up in agonizing pain if there is rain or a snowstorm. You will wake up wanting breakfast, but I cannot make it for you. There may be mornings when you want to resume the night's activities and make love. I'll be in too much pain to fulfill that desire. Perhaps now you can handle it now, but soon it will aggravate you. One day, you'll wake up and wonder why you've tied yourself to a cripple."
Severus gazed into her eyes. They betrayed her pain, not only physical, but emotional.
"He treated you like an object, didn't he?" Severus asked in a soft voice.
"What?" She choked.
"Mr. Weasley," He continued. "He convinced you that your only value lay in whether or not you could perform domestic duties and pleasure him."
She squeaked as another spasm rocked her body.
"He convinced you every man viewed you as little more than a house elf who has the added benefit of pleasuring him. He taught you that your pain was worth less than fulfilling his every desire."
"It sounds so crude when you put it that way."
"Am I wrong? Is that how he made you feel?"
"Yes," she admitted as another tear fell. "He made me feel as if I was nothing if I couldn't tend to his every need."
"Oh Hermione." He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair.
"He's not the only one who made it clear my worth was being a perfect housewife," she continued in a soft voice. "A few months ago, I overheard some people talking, saying I could never have a lover because I couldn't be intimate with him when he needed me to be."
"Who would be dunderheaded enough to say that?" It took everything within Severus not to lose control. If he ever found this person, he would hex them until there was nothing left. They would regret ever hearing Hermione's name, much less speaking ill of her.
"Who the people are doesn't matter." She shook her head. "What matters is the point they were making. We have to live with my disability. Whether you like it or not, my disability is going to affect you. It will limit the things we can do. We'll never walk across the beach together, or make love in the rain, or visit Flourish and Blotts on a Sunday afternoon. You will lose the ideal woman if you're with me."
"No," he took her hands. "I will gain everything with you, including the ideal woman."
Her lower lip quivered as she clung to his every word.
"I will gain a woman who makes me laugh, who reads books with me well into the night, who calms me when I'm at my surliest, who respects my boundaries, who challenges my worldview, and who loves me more than I deserve to be loved." He kissed her lips to emphasize the last point.
"Do you believe you'll feel that way in fifty years?"
"I know I will."
"Will you in a hundred?"
"I promise you that I will."
"You know, you'll have to do some chores from time to time. I don't always have the energy to do them."
"I couldn't care less. I've been doing chores for more than four decades. So long as you do not ask me to clean up the beer and liquor bottles you broke, I will do anything you ask."
"I'd imagine you hated doing that for your father."
"You have no idea how much I loathed cleaning up after a drunk."
"Indeed." She took his hand and kissed it. "I wish I had the energy and pain tolerance to make love to you right now. I would love nothing more than to show you how happy you make me."
"When your stamina returns, we will make love to your heart's content." He brushed his lips against hers.
She gave him a genuine smile. "How could your blind dates have gone so horribly when you're this wonderful?"
"Because I am only wonderful around you."
"And how did I get so lucky to see this side of you?" She dragged herself closer to him.
"Because you are the woman who loves me even at my worst, the woman who has haunted my dreams for years, and the one I promise never to abandon."
"What a lucky woman I am."
"No, you are the unluckiest woman I know. Nobody who loves me could have any luck," he kissed her lips again. "So long as you consider yourself lucky though, I will be a happy man."
"One day I'll convince you that you make me the luckiest woman in the world."
"Before that day comes, I hope to convince you that I am the luckiest man in the world."
She chuckled before laying her head on his chest.
"You are my partner," he began stroking her hair. "You are my equal in everything. There will be days when you will feel less than your best, and there will be days when I will be at less than my best. So long as we cooperate with each other, we will remain stable."
"I can manage that." She ran a finger along his chest.
"Now, do you want me to get you some food?"
Before she could answer, an uninvited orange visitor appeared. He looked Severus straight in the eyes, meowed, and sat on his legs.
"I wouldn't mind an apple," she grinned. "But I think Crookshanks would mind his warm spot moving."
"I'm sure he will be amenable to allowing me to move," he gave Crookshanks a pointed look. "Correct?"
The feline wrapped his tail around his body and purred.
"Huh, he's usually begging for food around this time," she noted. "He must really love you if he's more interested in cuddling you."
"I am oh so fortunate," he grumbled.
Crookshanks closed his eyes and purred louder.
"I will need to use the restroom at some point," he grumbled.
Crookshanks cared little for Severus' potential plight.
"You can pet him," she continued.
"That will only encourage him to stay," he argued
"Yes, but there are worse things to wake up with than a half-kneazle on one's legs."
"True, he could be a porcupine."
"That would be terrible."
"Indeed it would be. That does not mean I want him on my person this early in the morning though."
"I think you rather like Crookshanks."
"I tolerate him for your sake."
"I'm sure he'd say the same about you." She shifted her body until she could kiss his cheek. Then, she let out a whine and crumpled onto the bed.
"What do you need me to do?" Severus asked.
"I can't make love to you, but I wouldn't mind a cuddle," her voice was soft.
"I am amenable to that," he wrapped his arms around her. "Not that I have much of a choice in it."
"You always have a choice."
"True, and for once, I've made the right one in confessing my feelings to you."
"Good, because the best thing I ever did was confess my feelings to you."
He leaned down and pressed his lips into hers, reveling in the fact that for the first time in his life, his dreams had come true, half-kneazle and all.