Grumbling

BY : SnapeLove
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione
Dragon prints: 1062
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.

Written for a monthly challenge.

Rules:
Minimum
650 word count for each chapter

February- Fluffy Feb


He is sitting and reading a book. His black hair isn’t so black anymore, littered with white strands, still shadowing his face. The glasses are perched on the top of his nose. He’s grumbling at the passage he just read. He is not a young man anymore - by any standard. 50 feels like 250 in his estimation. And his estimations are always correct.

Paper rustle when he turns the page. He glances at his side. On his right, bundled up in few a layers of blankets is a female form. Idiotic witch. He focuses back on the book. Why do they even publish this? Incompetent fool. If you add Nerin to the mix it is not potion it is a poison. With a loud sigh, he closed the book. Annoyed.

He stares at the fire for some time. Opens the book again and continues with reading and grumbling. She still sleeps and he doesn’t want to disturb her. Wind charters against the windows of their cottage. The fire crackles, and for the time being only rustling of paper and his occasional grumbles can be heard.

She stirred and he puts his book away. It isn’t good book anyway. He stands up holding his lower back. His bones protest loudly and he can’t withhold a painful groan. She turns to him.

“You don’t have to get up.”

“To my sincere disgruntlement - I do.”

“Severus, I am fine.”

He ignores her protest and pace a step and a half, placing a hand to her forehead. Her eyes dance with watery shine.

“Dunderheads and their airheaded, stubborn, ideas.”

He walks to the kitchen and brews a tea. Takes a potion from the shelf and returns. Slow, careful steps. Not to spill anything. His hands shake slightly, it is a permanent fixture in past few years, he has to be careful.

He places the tea to a small table next to her and shoves the potion phial in front of her nose. 

“Drink this.”

“Severus, you know I hate the taste of that potion.”

“Then let it be a lesson for your foolishness. Drink. It.”

“Severus, it is just a cold…”

Drink it.”

With a sigh, she takes offered bottle and downs the potion. He nods and returns to his seat, opening the book again. With a corner of his eye, he watches her. She took her book, sipping tea. Her feet peaked under the blankets and touched his thigh. A shiver runs through his spine.

“Merlin, witch! Your feet are cold as ice.” He complains, but takes one icy cold foot and rubs it until it’s warm. He tucks it under his leg and turns to warm up her other foot.

“Thank you, but really - you don’t have to do that. I am fine.”

“Read your book and leave me to read mine.”

“Is it a good book?”

“No. The author is a charlatan. His ideas are preposterous bordering on downright dangerous. It is full of grammatical errors and misspelt words.”

“Then why are you reading it?”

That is a good question, why does he read it? The reason doesn't really matters anyway and he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Because. Read your book and stop pestering me.”

She smiles at him, wiggles her warm toes tucked under his leg and resumes her reading.

Evening ticks away. The potion worked and she is asleep now. It is late. With a sigh, he closes the book and places it on the table. He repeats the slow rise to his feet with grunts. Pulling one arm under her bent knees, the other under her shoulders. He straightens up, holding her in his arms. The searing pain in his lower back reminds him how stupid this is.

He struggles not to drop her, making his sluggish advance to the bedroom. With a painful grunt, he puts her gently on the bed and tucks the covers around her. He grits his teeth while disrobing. Winter and moist weather are not friendly to his joints.

He lowers himself in bed, next to her. She is in deep sleep. Brown curls splayed around her head. Her features calm. He removes one slightly damp curl from her face and tuck s her in again. Lying down he pulls her into his embrace and places one soft kiss on her damp temple, whispering.

“Just a cold. Nonsense. What if it's got serious? What if..” He chokes, he can’t even say the words. “What good am I without you?”

~ S ~ S ~ S ~

The room is dark and quiet. The only sound of the howling wind and his soft snores disturb the silence. She smiles into the darkness and snuggles next to him. Her eyes roam over his angular features. She curves her lips into a grin - even in his sleep, he’s frowning.

“I love you too.” She whispers.

His hand tightened his embrace, pulling her closer. With a content sigh, she closes her eyes.  



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