A/N: I know this is probably spoilers, but I felt that I should mention that there is miscarriage ahead. I know there are many women (and some men) who struggle with this and I wanted to give advance warning for those sensitive to such things.

Frugivorous

froo-JIV-er-us s | adjective

1: fruit-eating, as certain bats

The apples were really coming along this year. Beside them, the oranges, too, were ripening nicely. She plucked a particularly large one from the tree and brought it to her face, inhaling its scent deeply through the peel. The wind rustled through her beloved trees and touched her face gently. It was a welcome reprieve from the heat of the summer, and she sighed contentedly.

Ten years previous

Severus led her carefully into the back garden, her infectious smile causing one to cross his lips as well. There was a blindfold over her eyes and she laughed as he gave her directions through her familiar territory.

"Severus," she admonished with a laugh, "I planted everything here. I placed every rock, I'm friends with every bug."

"But if you trip and fall on your arse, it'll be my fault, and you know it."

She grinned. "What a smart man you are."

"Nearly there," he assured her.

"I would imagine," she agreed. "We're nearly to the end of the yard."

He stopped her a few paces later and moved behind her. His hands went to her shoulders while he whispered in her ear. "There are so many things that I can't give you," he murmured, "but this I can do. Happy anniversary, love."

He pulled her blindfold and smiled at her gasp of surprise. Two trees had taken root in her beloved garden. "Apples and oranges," she said through her smile. "You smart ass. I love them."

"You love me," he whispered into her ear, pulling her back against him.

"I do," she agreed, "but stop distracting me. I'm looking at your spellwork."

"Ah, yes. I'm proud of that, you know. They're climate bubbles. Took quite a bit of research to get that right. They'll change seasons relative to the native climate of the tree, so you should get perfect fruit every year regardless of the weather here."

"I love them," she repeated. "And you. Merlin, I love you. Thank you for my trees."

She turned her back on the orange tree and pressed her back against the trunk. Sliding down the trunk, she hit the ground and stretched her legs out in front of her, enjoying the shade of the tree. Her attention turned to the orange in her hand. She began to peel it slowly.

Ten years, six months previous

"I'm so sorry, Mister and Missus Snape," said the healer, and Hermione felt her world crumbling.

She turned to bury her face in her husband's chest, tears already springing to her eyes. He stroked her hair silently, but she could feel the unsteadiness in his hand.

"We'll give you a potion to induce labor and evacuate the uterus," she said gently.

Hermione knew the procedure. She'd done it before. Twice before. This was the third baby that she had lost. The third child that was half her and half Severus that had died inside of her. They had agreed that if they lost this child they would stop trying. They were weary. It was heartbreaking, and she could take no more of it. The ache of their lost children was constantly with her. She could see that it was wearing on him as well. It was in his eyes when he looked at her across a room. She could see it in the set of his shoulders when he thought that she wasn't watching.

She was finished dreaming of a family with the man that she loved.

A dribble of juice ran down her chin, and she sighed with pleasure at the sharp taste of the orange. Perfect fruit every year, as promised. She adored her trees.

Twelve years previous

She smiled, looking around the living room filled with boxes. He had bought them a house. With a whole yard for a garden, just for her. She had been a bit upset when she'd found out that he'd done such a thing without consulting her on it, but after she'd seen the place… She loved every inch of it. There was a large, concrete basement for his potions lab. The living spaces were on one level, which they both preferred. Sometimes the old aches from the war made stairs difficult for both of them. The master bathroom had a large shower with a shower head on each side – ideal for double showers, which had made her smirk when she'd seen it. There was a smaller bedroom not far from the master, which she had visions of fixing up with a crib. She felt a pang go through her at the thought, but she pushed it aside. They would try again. There would be a pitter patter of tiny feet on the gorgeous hardwood.

"The water's on," he announced, stepping out of the doorway from the kitchen.

She beamed at him. "Should we break in that shower, then?"

He raised an eyebrow and sauntered toward her. "Why, Missus Snape, are you hitting on me?"

"Not at all," she argued as she melted into his arms. "I'm propositioning you. It's very different, you know."

He laughed, and she smiled. Thank Merlin that she had him.

She studied the sky between the branches while she chewed on the last piece of her orange. It was remarkably good weather today. It was breezy but not overly so, and the sun was finally out. It had rained for nearly a week straight, which had put her out terribly, as it had kept her inside away from her garden. Given another week or so, she would have a load of weeding to do, but for now they were still thinking only about growing. Funny how they did that – shot up like, well, weeds.

Twelve years, six months previous

She slid the small, wrapped package across their small kitchen table. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"What's this?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's a present. It isn't as though I'm going to tell you what's inside, is it?"

"It isn't my birthday or a holiday that I know of. I haven't forgotten an anniversary, have I?"

"Just open it," she insisted.

Carefully, he did as she requested, and it was all she could do to keep from rolling her eyes again as he slowly peeled the tape and unwrapped the paper, keeping it all completely intact. The small cardboard box stared up at him and she bit her lip, smiling broadly as he lifted the lid. The article looked so small in his fingers as he lifted it from the box. She saw the moment he read the words on the front.

Daddy's Little Patronus

His eyes went wide, and he clutched the little onesie in his hand. "Hermione?" he croaked.

"I'm pregnant," she said, suddenly nervous.

"You're pregnant," he repeated.

She nodded.

She jumped as his chair slid loudly across the floor, scraping against the stone. He yanked her up from her chair and pulled her into a crushing hug. She laughed breathlessly.

"You're pleased, then?"

He nodded against her hair. "Merlin, yes. Hermione, we're going to be parents." He pulled back from her and placed one hand against her belly, staring at it in awe. "Baby Snape."

She stared up at her apple tree, contemplating a fruit from its branches as well. She'd gotten used to the mixed taste of apples and oranges through the years and had even come to enjoy it. Disinclined as she was to get to her feet, she waved her hand at the apple that she desired and watched it descend slowly toward her.

Thirteen years previous

"I love you," he whispered into her hair.

She had been falling asleep. Perhaps he thought that she was asleep already. But that had her wide awake. She pulled back from him to gaze into his face.

"What?" she asked, breathless.

She thought that she could detect a blush staining his cheeks, but it was difficult to tell in the darkness. "Nothing," he said lowly.

"No," she said firmly. "No, I heard what you said. I need you to say it again. To my face."

"Hermione, I-" he began to protest.

"No, Severus. I need you to tell me, please."

He swallowed and met her eyes. "I love you."

She blinked twice before a slow smile spread across her face. "You love me," she repeated in wonder.

"I do." His fingers trailed down her bare arm, elbow to wrist and back again.

If they hadn't just finished a vigorous round of sex, she would have jumped him right then and there. As it was, she was too exhausted, and she doubted if he could go again so soon.

"I love you too, you know," she said matter-of-factly.

His fingers froze in their tracks. "You do?"

She nodded. "I do." She laughed at the expression on his face. "I'm just as surprised as you are. I didn't expect to, but here we are."

The apple was crisp and sweet. It was at odds with the sharper flavor of the orange that lingered on her tongue, but she enjoyed the conflict. Her flowers were blooming well. Their season was coming to an end, but they didn't seem to know yet. She was glad that they hadn't been too badly damaged by all the rain.

Thirteen years, four months previous

Hermione stood at the enchanted window in their kitchen tending to her small potted herbs. She insisted that she wanted a garden one day – a big one with lots of flowers. She hated those gardens that only contained practical plants. Practicality had a purpose, of course, but she loved flowers. She intended to have a whole pile of them.

Severus watched her tending her plants and felt a squirming ache deep in his belly. Nearly a year they had been married now, and things seemed to be improving. They weren't in love. He didn't think that would ever be the case, but at least she no longer hated him. She didn't cringe at the sight of the Dark Mark tattooed onto his arm anymore. She called him by his given name.

She looked up at him and gave a small smile, which he allowed himself to reciprocate. He was sure it probably looked a bit forced, but it was the best that he could do.

"Shouldn't you be leaving soon?" she asked, crossing the room to stand beside him in the doorway.

It was true, he had classes to teach. Thank Merlin it would be his final year at Hogwarts. He didn't think that he could stand the memories the place invoked for another season. He nodded. "I was just coming to tell you that I'm going and to wish you a good day." He was making effort. That was also new.

She smiled up at him and he swore that it brightened the dark, dungeon kitchen a few degrees. A real smile twitched at the corner of his mouth in answer.

"You, too."

He swung around, facing her midway through his rotation, and dropped a kiss to her lips. And froze, his hands at his sides. Blinking in surprise, he pulled back quickly from her. She, too, looked shocked.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I don't know why I did that."

She didn't say anything as she stared after his retreating form.

She finished the last of her fruit and banished the core to her compost pile in a magically smell-proofed corner of the yard. It turned itself twice per week. She got to her feet and wandered along the stone path through her flowers. The vegetable patch was on the opposite side of the garden. Because of the rain, she hadn't been out to visit in a few days, but she guessed that her peas were likely ready for harvest. At her request, Severus had placed his climate bubble around the vegetables as well. It was an amazing spell, really. Between her top-quality compost and the perfectly controlled weather for each plant, her garden vegetables were becoming famous among friends and family.

Thirteen years, six months previous

They ate breakfast in silence. It wasn't a stony silence, at least, though no one would call it a comfortable one. He was still Snape to her, and she remained Granger, though it had been several months since she had ceased being a Granger. He couldn't bring himself to think of her with his last name. Even in bed, she called him Snape.

The rest… Well, the sex was mind-blowing. At least they were good at that. By law, they were required at least ten times per month, though the government cared little about the spacing. Every month between the first day and the last day, they must copulate on at least ten separate occasions. Whether they did it twice a week or all in one day, no one gave a flying fuck. This was required until they produced a child.

They had quickly found that it wasn't an issue. In fact, every month thus far, they had exceeded the requirement. She held nothing back from him in bed. She told him exactly what she wanted and wasn't shy in trying to reach for it. It made things easier. They weren't friends. They had only just begun to tolerate each other. But at least they were having hell of good sex.

"Hermione?" called Severus from the doorway.

"In the vegetables," she answered, breaking a pea pod from the plant and dropping it into her harvest bag. She smiled at him when he moved into view. "How was Diagon Alley today?"

"Chaotic," he sighed. "Chock full of children doing their school shopping."

Her smile turned wistful, and he reached over the vegetable plants to squeeze her hand. "I got the book you asked for."

"Which one?" she asked playfully. She had a running list on the fridge in the kitchen.

He rolled his eyes and dropped her hand to reach into his pocket to retrieve the magically shrunken book between his thumb and forefinger. He returned the book to its normal size and passed it across to her.

Orion, His Belt, and Your Onions

"I still call hogwash on the whole thing," he declared. "There is no way that the visibility of constellations has any bearing on the growth of your vegetables."

"Hush," she chastised. "It's probably a load of shite, but what if it isn't?"

"Now you'll be in the know," he said solemnly.

Fourteen years previous

Hermione sat in his office, a scowl pressed firmly onto her lips. "This is bullshit," she growled. "They can't force people to get married."

He raised one brow. "Of course they can't. That's why they've given us the option of being married or being muggles."

"Not helping." She huffed. "Of all the people they could have matched me to."

"Yes," he drawled. "Of all the people. Really, Miss Granger, I'm hardly thrilled at the thought of an eternity listening to your chatter."

Apples and oranges. That's how Minerva had described the pairing. She'd shaken her head and wondered what on earth the new department had been thinking when they'd put the two of them together. She'd been quite vocal about it to both of them, but then, they hardly had a choice in the matter.

"I'll have to live here at the castle, won't I?" She used to love this place, but now it just reminded her of death. She could see Fred's crushed body on the seventh floor. Colin Creevey's body lay in the Great Hall along with Remus and Tonks.

He nodded. "As a teacher, I am required to live in the castle and by law, you will be required to live with me."

"Perfect," she grumbled. "You'll retire in, what, ten years?"

Lovely, a jab at his age. Mature. He sighed, rubbing his temples. Merlin, this woman would be the death of him.