Fossick

FOS-ik | verb

3: to hunt; seek; ferret out

Someone was fucking with his wards. Severus Snape was a man who valued privacy above all else. The very instant he had been allowed to slink away from the commotion and the limelight, he had done so. That was weeks ago. Not a soul had bothered him since then. Whether anyone had bothered to make an effort to locate him, he neither knew nor cared, but now there was a person outside his home poking a stick at his wards.

Bristling, he threw on his coat and flung the front door open. It bounced off the wall of the house with a loud bang. "What?" he snarled into the yard, then stopped, blinking, at the sight of the familiar face beyond his gate.

Hermione offered him a scowl, her hands falling to her hips. "I was promised a real date if we both survived the war," she growled. "Well here we both are. I have been attempting to reach you for weeks, Severus. Let me in."

Wordlessly, he allowed her inside the wards.

"Thank you," she huffed, striding past him into his house.

"So," he said slowly, closing the door behind him, "you really want to try this out?"

Her eyes flashed and she stalked across the room. Pressing herself up on her toes, she pressed her lips against his. Instinctively, his hands went to her hips. Gods, she tasted divine. Pulling away, she pressed her face against his chest. "I missed you."

He hoped that she couldn't feel the way his heart was pounding. Merlin, how could this possibly be as terrifying as his near-death? "I meant what I said before."

"I don't want this to be just sex. I don't want this to be stress relief. I want you. I want to see if we can have a real relationship," she insisted.

He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her against him. "I know."

"You almost died," she murmured.

He nodded solemnly. It was true. That gods-blasted snake had nearly done him in. If he hadn't despised the creature before – and he most assuredly had – he certainly did now. But he hadn't died. At least, he didn't think so. If he had, this was a wonderful version of heaven that he wasn't sure he deserved.

Her whisper was so quiet, he almost didn't hear it over the roaring of blood in his ears. "Let me love you."

"I care about you, Hermione, but," he could feel her sag in his hold, " – let me finish – but are you sure you want to throw your lot in with me? I want you to think long and hard about it." She sucked in a breath – to object, he was sure – but he cut her off. "No, listen to me. I am not a well-liked man. I would be a tarnish on your reputation."

"You really have been living under a rock, haven't you?"

He blinked. "I have isolated myself a bit," he admitted. "But-"

"No, Severus," she interrupted, "you are a hero. While I don't think you'll ever be well-liked by the general population, no one can deny that you helped save us all."

He scoffed. "I did far less than some."

"You did far more than most."

He frowned. "I did what was necessary."

She nodded. "You did. And the wizarding world recognizes that."

He looked down at her sharply and pushed her away from him, holding her at arm's length. "That isn't why you're here is it?"

Severus was almost sorry he'd asked as he watched the look of utter outrage spread across her face. "Severus Snape," she screeched, and he winced, "if you care to recall, I stuck with you through the worst of it. I was there when you were exhausted and afraid – oh yes, I was aware that you were scared shitless – and I held onto you and gave you what you needed. I never abandoned you and I have been searching for you since you got up from your hospital bed and walked off into the night. Don't you dare accuse me of wanting you for your status."

The corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "I need you to be sure that this is what you want," he continued, as though she was not still panting from her anger and glaring daggers at him. "If we decide to do this, I may not ever let you change your mind."

Her expression softened. "Are you under the impression that I would do such a thing lightly?" She moved closer to him again and raised her hands to cup his face. "I want you in every possible meaning of the phrase. I've been sure about this for months. Neither of us should have survived the war but we did and I don't intend to squander what I've got left. Do you?"

A genuine smile ghosted across his lips as he met her gaze. "Fuck no."

A/N: In case you missed it, this is kind of a follow-up for Prelapsarian. I hope that you enjoyed, please leave a review on your way out!