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Unquestionable Love	By : CRMediaGal Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 3380 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I own none of her associated characters. New characters belong to me. No money/profit is made from this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: More Hermione and Severus moments before other things start to kick in and cause a ruckus.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Brittny!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I own none of her associated characters. New characters belong to me.

Chapter 11: Suspicions

"Really, Hermione, he's wearing black in every single picture! Does Severus not own one colored shirt, for goodness' sake?"

Hermione humorously rolled her eyes at her mother's disgruntled question. Mrs. Granger was easing her way about the sitting room, taking in the various moving picture frames hanging on the walls and placed on top of the furniture. Her hair was long and grey and pulled back into a loose bun. Like Hermione, she was thin and very attractive, walking with an active skip in her step. In fact, she didn't remotely look her age.

"Mum," Hermione retorted pleasantly, "it's useless! You're never going to convince Severus to wear a different color. He likes black. You ought to stop buying him these shirts; he'll never wear them!"

Hermione held up a dark green sweater that still had the price tag attached. At least her mother had tried to pick out Slytherin's color, a shade her husband might have considered, if he were not Severus Snape.

Though Hermione was teasing her mother, she was, in truth, perfectly serious. Why did her mother insist on purchasing clothes her son-in-law would never wear? It had been the running joke of the Granger family for at least a decade, but Hermione was beginning to have her fill of it. As for Severus, he saw absolutely no humor in her mother's 'wasteful antics,' nor the tiring, yearly quip made at his expense.

Hermione folded the attractive sweater up and hastily placed it back into the plastic bag from whence it came, grateful that Severus was not nearby to make some snide remark on her mother's behalf. That was always his humor: dark. He was usually quite respectful towards her parents, but that shirt would aggravate him to no end, and Hermione was not interested in the reproach that would most definitely emerge as soon as her parents were gone.

Mrs. Granger ignored her daughter's jibe about the shirt. She halted in front of an image above the fireplace and removed it from its perch, examining it closely with her glasses. Hermione strolled to her mother's side and leaned in to take a closer look as well, though the image was already familiar to her.

It was an older family photograph, taken well before Jeannie was born, when Lily and Surina were toddlers. They were skipping back and forth in front of the camera, tugging at each other's garments. Both girls had large, pretty bows in their hair, and wore virtually identical dresses and shoes. Hermione was standing behind them, holding Hailey in her arms. Hailey must have been just over one year of age at the time, and her little curls were wild and out of control, even then. She had a pacifier in her mouth and was surveying her sisters' tussle, evidently finding amusement in their exchange, from the adorable grin plastered on her face. Severus, meanwhile, was beside Hermione in his usual, infamous attire, and would gaze from the camera to the girls, trying unsuccessfully to get their attention and coax them to peer into the camera. But they would not listen, and Severus turned to Hermione in defeat, although he broke out into a rare grin at the sight of Hailey's endearing smile. Hermione was glancing from Hailey to her husband during all of this commotion, smiling at both of them in her doting way. She seemed quite content despite the fact that no one was standing still for the family portrait. It was all quite chaotic really, but captivating, nonetheless.

The image repeated itself over and over, and Mrs. Granger chuckled after letting the picture unfold before her eyes several times. She commented on Lily and Surina's whimsical dresses, and how they looked like they had "popped right out of a watercolor illustration from an eighteenth-century children's novel."

Mrs. Granger grabbed another photograph off the mantle and reviewed it thoughtfully. Hermione did, too. It was a more recent picture, taken less than a year ago, of Severus and Jeannie sitting outside. It had been casually taken by Hermione, probably at a park somewhere, though she could not recall the exact location. Severus and Jeannie were seated on the grass and gazing up at the camera. Jeannie was sitting on Severus's lap with a sippy cup in one hand and his wand in the other, but Severus was surprisingly apathetic as he watched the doll-faced girl wave it in the air, showing it off. Jeannie was beaming from ear to ear, a trail of milk oozing down her mouth, and Severus was glancing from the camera to Jeannie and back, his stern mouth whispering subtly and relatively close to her earlobe. The dark wizard did not seem annoyed or frustrated or even happy, but there was a sereneness about him that went straight to Hermione's heart. It was an understated photograph, and yet, it spoke volumes, telling her everything about the underlying truths regarding the man that she loved.

"Awww, Jeannie," Mrs. Granger said as Hermione looked on. "She and Severus look so much alike, don't they? The hair, the complexion..." She moved towards Hermione, smiling all the while, before surveying the moving picture again. "She is just gorgeous. They all are. I'm so disappointed that we missed them before they left for school. Your father and I really wanted to be there."

Hermione instinctively wrapped her arms around her mother and hugged her close. "It's all right, Mum. You'll see them soon enough. Mind you, Jeannie's so happy that you're here!"

Hermione and Mrs. Ganger peered over at the dainty, dark-haired girl across the room. She was spread out on the floor in front of Hermione's father, who was seated in a comfy chair in front of her, talking lively to his granddaughter. They were continuously giggling at one another, the old man reaching down and whispering words that caused the four-year-old tot to throw back her head and cackle.

Hermione admired them for a moment, her daughter enraptured by her grandfather's undivided attention and enthusiastic disposition. They were playing some sort of magical board game in which small red and blue figurines moved themselves, hopping this way and that, but only at Jeannie and Mr. Granger's commands.

Hermione's focus suddenly shifted, her eyes darting about the room as if she were soaking it in for the first time. Severus, who was present when they had entered the sitting room about a half-hour ago, was nowhere to be found.

Where is he? she wondered, suspicious.

Her mother's voice broke her concentration. "Any chance you could persuade the girls to come home for a weekend, Hermione? Your father and I would love to see them and spend some quality time. We could take them for the whole weekend, if you and Severus wouldn't mind."

Hermione casually turned to her mother, smiling broadly at her parents' fondness for her daughters. "Oh, I'm sure the girls would love that, Mum! But, frankly, I don't know if they would be able to get away with all of their studies and exams. It may be too difficult before the holiday."

"Not until Christmas?"

Mrs. Granger's dread spoke volumes, so Hermione squeezed her shoulder and examined her mother's kind eyes. "I'll ask, Mum," she assured her. "I can't guarantee anything, but I'll see if the girls can swing it."

Mrs. Granger's brown eyes lit up at her daughter's proposition, her countenance turning both grateful and excited in a flash. "Wonderful, dear!" she exclaimed, pulling Hermione close. "Perhaps Severus could work something out? Maybe even put in a word with Headmistress, um, oh dear, what's her name again?"

Hermione burst into laughter before emphatically shaking her head. "McGonagall. And Mum, Severus will do no such thing, you know that! More than half of the girls' homework consists of Potions assignments anyway!"

Mrs. Granger shrugged off her daughter's retort. "Well, it was worth a try."

The two wrapped their arms around one another and strolled over to Jeannie and Mr. Granger. The two were still chuckling incessantly, evidently enjoying some sort of private joke; Hermione and her mother did not bother to ask what it was.

Mr. Granger glanced up at Hermione, his extensive grin showing off his flawless white teeth. All of the Grangers had perfect teeth, since Hermione's parents were retired dentists. Hermione begrudged them for making her go through the unnecessary torture of braces for years, when they could have simply used magic to correct her dental occlusion. When her own children came along, Hermione decided she would not put her daughters through such ghastly methods, not when she had a wand at her disposal. Naturally, her parents did not agree with her decision, but they hardly griped about it. Not only was their daughter a witch, but she had also married a wizard. Their worlds would never quite coincide, but Hermione found comfort in knowing that her parents were very accepting of the different life she and Severus led.

"Where's Severus?" her father inquired, as Jeannie commanded one of the game pieces to move.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing, Dad."

"Well, he walked out of the room a while ago, virtually right after we came in here, and hasn't come back."

Hermione rolled her fair eyes and crossed her arms. "He's rather prone to doing that," she sighed. "I'll go find him."

Hermione ambled out of the cozy sitting room and into the hallway, glancing up and down the foyer before checking the kitchen first. Severus was not there, nor was he in the den, or rather, the reading room where they spent so much of their time together, though more so in the summers or during holiday breaks when Severus was home for longer periods of time. Hermione turned around, passed by the kitchen and sitting room, and trampled to the opposite end of the hallway towards the bedroom. The door was opened a crack, so Hermione pushed it open further. It gave a slight creak as she extended it all the way back, and she passed through. She closed it discreetly behind her and surveyed her surroundings. The fireplace near their bed was lit, and the room emanated cozy, serene warmth. It actually made Hermione a little drowsy and she fluttered her eyes, stirring herself to stay focused.

"Severus?" she called out, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting.

When she took another step, she spotted him. He was across the room and lying on top of their emerald covers, fully clothed, with his black cloak spread out underneath him. His sable form resembled more of an ink splash at first sight than the masculine figure that was, in fact, there. His eyes were closed, but they shot open when she entered the room. She saw him stir ever so slightly.

"Severus?" she questioned again, before strolling over to him.

"Yes?" he snarled, straightening up and looking quite unraveled by the interruption.

She raised her eyebrows curiously. "Were you asleep?"

"No," he grumbled with some annoyance, propping his head back and adjusting a few of the buttons on his jacket. "I was just closing my eyes for a moment."

Hermione slunk onto the bed beside her husband, savoring the touch of his warm thigh against hers, and reached over to pry his fumbling hands off of his jacket. He hissed faintly in protest to her advance, but she willed herself to ignore him.

"Let me," she proposed, a sheepish grin forming across her lips.

Severus wanted to object again but when he took in the seductive gaze on Hermione's face, his arms went limp and his countenance softened. The buttons. What the hell was it with her and those damn buttons? Severus scanned her attractive features as she adjusted and toyed with a few of them near his cravat. She lovingly traced over them and he could feel her gentle fingers through the fabric, stroking his neck and collarbone, almost as if she were massaging rather than buttoning him up. It continued for a few minutes, much to the professor's disguised pleasure.

Then Severus decided he had indulged Hermione enough and eased her hands away. At first, Hermione gave a little whimper, but then Severus interlocked one of her hands with his own and laid it protectively against his chest. For a moment, they simply stared at one another, inhaling each other's intoxicating aroma.

"Well," Severus whispered after a time, well over his former irritation, "I should probably get back out there, shouldn't I?"

Hermione bit her lip and gently rubbed her fingers through his long hair. "You were sleeping, weren't you?"

"Only for a few minutes," he replied in his silk-like voice. "I came in here to look for Mr. Pot—something I left here a while ago and, well..."

"I see," Hermione murmured, regarding him with thoughtfulness. She mused over how unusual, yet strangely handsome he was, so enigmatic, eluding a sultry, formidable nature that she could not help but relish.

"Sorry," Severus whispered, unaware of her musings and pulling her closer to breathe in her lavender perfume.

Hermione stroked his hair a few more times and stared into his inscrutable eyes that fluttered at her touch. She felt his upper body shudder a little beneath her, his breathing quickening now that she was mere inches from his face. His exhalations tickled her flushed cheeks.

"You're apologizing for falling asleep?" she teased.

Severus cocked his head to one side, giving her a sly smirk. "More for ignoring your parents' visit. They must think my behavior truly horrid this time."

Hermione shook her brown curls and chuckled. "Stop it, Severus. They think no such things about you."

"Not anymore," he corrected her, emphasizing each word.

"Yes, well," Hermione shifted into a more dominant position, leering down upon her former Potions Master with an infectious grin, "they didn't know you like I did then, nor like I do now."

Severus continued to smirk at the ravishing woman. "They had very valid reasons, my dear. Don't forget that."

Hermione abruptly frowned and shot Severus a reprimanding glare. He felt her grasp tighten around the hand still clutched to his chest. He had to admit that even her anger was captivating. Her cheeks were turning a romantic, rose-colored hue and her eyes were luminous, flashing several different emotions in a matter of seconds.

"No more," she breathed very low; it was nearly a whimper to his ears, "I can't listen to you belittle yourself anymore, Severus, and you've done more than enough of that today. Please stop."

Severus scowled, raising an eyebrow and peering into his wife's now woeful eyes. The playful exchanges between them were gone, at least on her part.

"I wasn't being serious, Hermione," he droned, rubbing his free palm against her cheek.

Hermione sighed but reluctantly sat up, staring down at Severus with a much more tender expression. He was staring back at her, searching her face, unsure of how to react or what to say. Hermione offered him another smile and lazily raised herself up from their four-poster bed. The comfortable heat in the room was beginning to affect her too. If she did not stretch her legs, she digressed, then she could easily stay there and study her mysterious husband for the rest of the night. Not that he would have allowed her to; he surely would have found such a practice ridiculous and laughable, but that did not bother Hermione. Severus did not see what she saw in him, and she had contended with that reality for two decades.

"Come," she prodded, tugging his arm. "Mum, Dad, and Jeannie are waiting for us."

Severus grumbled but obeyed. He dropped his legs over the side of the bed rather carefully, and was about to rise when something stopped him. He held himself pinned to the bed for a moment, his ghostly brow wrinkled, offset by a harsh grimace and narrowed eyes. His formerly relaxed body was now braced and slightly hunched over.

Hermione recognized the ailment Severus was suffering from and trying to subdue on his own. She bit her lip and tried to suppress her apprehensions. If she said anything, he would only become alarmed and make himself worse, so she allowed him another moment of uninterrupted silence. Then, as if it had not happened, Severus steadily rose from the bed, meeting Hermione's troubled gaze. It was as if she were staring at a different person. He was taciturn now, his expression no longer bearing the pained look from moments before. How he was able to do it, Hermione did not know, but it would have been very convincing to anyone else. She stared at him, her eyes filled with worry.

"Severus—" she began before he interrupted.

"Not now, please."

Hermione's eyes shifted to the floor, but Severus had her chin in his hand in an instant and pushed it upwards so that her gaze bore into his. She was surprised by the concern on his face when it was really the opposite that made more sense.

"Hermione," he muttered softly, his index finger admiring the acute lines of her jaw, "let's just enjoy the rest of our weekend. None of that, please. It only ruins what little time we have together."

Hermione swallowed at her husband's delicate words and took his hand in hers, rubbing her fingers against his in acceptance. "All right," she consented, "but only for tonight."

Severus let out a defiant growl, but Hermione ignored him and pulled him towards the door. They exited the room together, their hands interwoven, in a comfortable silence.

The following morning, Hermione was in a rather testy mood, mainly on account of how unfair she felt it that Severus was going to trek off and leave her again. She only had a few hours left to spend with him, and she secretly cursed Hogwarts for taking Severus away from her so soon. There were never enough hours in the day anymore, and all she wanted was just a few more hours than she already had.

Hermione was seated at the kitchen table, mindlessly stirring her tea when her eyes glanced up at Jeannie, whose incessant giggling came from across the room. Her daughter was standing on top of a chair at the kitchen sink, eye level with Severus, her back turned from him. He had his arms draped around the little girl, with one of his elongated hands resting on top of hers, extending their arms outward. Jeannie held her father's wand in her hand, as Severus gripped his own hand around hers to maintain firm control over the dangerous instrument. He whisked the wand this way and that, allowing Jeannie to feel its power and motion. She was clearly elated with the magic it produced. Her big curls bobbed around in an excited response.

Jeannie chortled in delight as a variety of dishes, forks, spoons, cups and other cooking utensils spun around before her, whisking around each other at such close proximity and at such a speed that, surely, they would knock into one another and shatter into a million pieces. They never did, though, on account of the dark wizard's focused concentration. They piled on top of one another, weaving and dipping, and Severus began stacking them into various shapes and images. He made an elephant, a snake, a happy face, and a witch's hat, all of which made Jeannie hop up and down, wanting more.

Hermione took in the pair of them, the dainty girl in her pink pajamas, her back leaning against the tall Slytherin, whose upper body molded around her protectively as she laughed and moved her short arm in motion with his direction and guidance. Severus was whispering words into her ear, of which Hermione was only able to catch a few, and Jeannie giggled all over again.

"More, Daddy! More!" she insisted in a squeaky voice. Severus willingly obeyed, with a slight smile on his thin lips.

Hermione put her chin in her hand and grinned. She relished these moments, and it seemed so unfair that their family got to experience so few of them during the school year.

"Severus, really," she baited, as she watched from her comfortable spot, "some of those are your mother's dishes. If you break them, we're going to have a real mess on our hands!"

Severus, although listening, never broke his concentration, continuing instead to indulge the wee girl in his arms who kept demanding more from him. "And we'll just force them back together again in no time," he retorted in his rough, yet subtly pleasant, voice. "Relax, Hermione."

Jeannie glanced over at her mother, her rosy cheeks flushed more than usual, due to her unstoppable giggles. "Yeah, relax Her-me-nee!" she unsuccessfully tried to repeat in the same tone as her father.

Hermione chuckled softly and saw Severus smirk in response to Jeannie's failing, but endearing, pronunciation. Hermione surveyed her husband and daughter for a while longer as he carried on, uttering incantations under his breath and waving the wand within his daughter's grasp, visibly enjoying their moment together.

"All right, you two," she insisted after a time. "That's enough."

Severus submitted to her will, and, in a flash, the cupboards flew open and all of the kitchen utensils were whisked back onto the shelves, perfectly stacked as if they had never been touched. The cupboards slammed shut, the magical atmosphere now gone. Jeannie gave a dramatic moan of disagreement, turning round on the chair to face her father. She eyed him with pouty, pink lips. Severus reacted and carefully took her into his arms, his prominent nose touching her own, exceedingly miniature by comparison. The pink pajamas contrasted the black eighteenth-century coat in a strange, charming way.

"Another time, Jeannie," Severus murmured in his dry tone. The little girl took this as an affectionate promise, even though she was not yet ready to concede.

"Ohhh!" she sulked, her tiny fingers laced around some buttons near his cravat.

"Miss Jean Molly Snape," Hermione called from across the room, and the child reared her pout towards her mother, "no whining. That's enough now."

Jeannie moaned again in protest, but Severus pecked one of her plump cheeks and placed her on the ground, faltering a little with his balance. He reached out and gripped the counter top, trying not to topple over the small child at his feet. Jeannie, however, did not notice and skipped over to the kitchen table, where Hermione reluctantly tore her gaze away from Severus to face Jeannie, now at her side.

"But I want a wand!" Jeannie whimpered, staring up into Hermione's eyes with her own black orbs that matched Severus's.

Hermione smiled warmly and cuddled Jeannie in her arms. "Absolutely not," she stated firmly. "We've told you, when you're older, sweetie."

"When?" Jeannie whined.

Hermione glanced up at Severus standing a few feet away, still concerned over what she had witnessed, but he was no longer hunched over. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, his expression meditative and without any flicker of discomfort. She gathered what the dark, attractive man was probably thinking.

"Soon enough," Hermione assured her, continuing to hold her tight.

"Not too soon," Severus uttered quietly, remaining still.

The two adults stared at one another for a moment before Jeannie broke away from Hermione's hug, her eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. "I'll make my own!" she squealed, sprinting away before Severus or Hermione could say anything. Her tiny steps echoed down the hallway. Hermione abruptly turned to her husband with a comical look.

"I don't want to know," Severus grumbled, his eyebrow raised as he looked on curiously at the spot where the tot had disappeared.

Hermione let out another small laugh, before inching an untouched cup of tea and a few unopened envelopes towards him, encouraging Severus to join her. He walked over to her, taking a considerable amount of time, as if every step were a strain, and finally sunk into a chair beside her, his knees propped against hers under the table. Hermione's smile vanished, replaced by a familiar anxiety as she examined Severus with sad, yearning eyes. She did not want to ask the major question looming in her mind, knowing he would only lie to her or give her false reassurance. Severus was too proud to admit to moments of weakness even now, so she asked her second pressing question instead.

"You really can't leave this evening?"

"I'm afraid not," Severus replied, taking his hand to Hermione's face and delicately stroking her cheek.

Hermione reciprocated and took Severus's rather cold hand to her lips, kissing it several times with her eyes closed. Severus sensed his wife's craving mingled with some sort of despair at his upcoming departure. Her longing never failed to astonish him. How could anyone, let alone someone as unfailingly ravishing as the woman seated at this table, possess the kind of devotion she bore for him? Most days it was incomprehensible to him, but as long as she continued to love him, he would never object in any way shape or form; not when Hermione was everything, and, even above their children, his reason for existence.

Severus suppressed his strong desires and urges for more. He grasped Hermione's hand, intertwining them together before placing them on the table. Hermione observed him inquisitively, waiting for him to speak.

"Perhaps next time I can stay longer."

Hermione knew Severus was lying, but she did not retort. Instead, she decided to change the subject before she instigated an unnecessary rift.

"What were you looking for last night?" she asked casually.

Severus, about to put the cup of tea to his lips, hesitated and glanced sideways at her with suspicion. His lip curled unpleasantly.

"A letter I meant to take with me to Hogwarts that I forgot. Why?"

"It wouldn't happen to be from Harry, would it?"

Severus hesitated, trying to mask his underlying irritation. As much as he loved Hermione for her fierce intellect, sometimes she was too clever for him, making it difficult for him to maintain any sort of secrecy. He decided not to answer, choosing instead to glare at her with an air of indifference. Hermione kept calm, tossing her long waves of hair to one side, momentarily distracting Severus's attention.

"He's been asking if you got his letter from a few weeks back," she pressed on, "and mentioned something to me at the train station as well. He won't elaborate on what it's about."

"That's because there's nothing worth sharing," Severus drawled, taking a sip of his hot tea and turning away from her.

"He keeps saying that it's potions-related?"

"Hermione," Severus sighed, putting down his cup, trying to keep his agitation at bay, "it's really not important. Just let it alone."

"If it's so unimportant, then why can't either of you tell me?" Hermione challenged, her voice rising, her desire not to argue now at the back of her mind. "And, for the record, why didn't you inform me that Harry wrote to you in the first place? I thought we didn't have secrets."

Severus rolled his eyes and withdrew his hand from hers, which she instantly regretted. He gave her a most disagreeable scowl.

"I'm not keeping secrets from you, Hermione. It's just official Ministry rubbish." When she continued to scrutinize him unpleasantly, Severus growled and retorted, "If you must know, the Aurors Office is inquiring about a few select potions new on the black market. They have asked for my expertise about the ingredients and their potentially dangerous uses. I simply haven't had time to reply to Potter's inquiries yet. He should know that I'm very busy as it is, and that his letter is not at the top of my list of priorities!"

Hermione, expecting some deeper, hidden secret from Severus that he was not sharing, shifted in her chair uneasily and blushed. "Oh! Well, I thought—"

"Why would I trouble you with such mundane matters, Hermione?" he hissed, pulling a few strands of hair away from his tired-looking eyes. "Can't I keep anything to myself without you assuming that I'm somehow keeping secrets from you? You insinuate that I'm a pathological liar."

Hermione's eyes drifted to Severus's previously withdrawn hand a few inches from her. She slowly reached over, gathered it once more in her grasp, and held it tight. Severus's brow furrowed at her touch, but he did not recoil as she thought he might.

"I'm sorry, love," Hermione said, surveying him apologetically. "Of course I don't think you're a liar, but Harry's my best friend, and you're my husband. You can't deny me my skepticism at times, Severus. After all, it wouldn't be the first time you've deliberately kept something from me."

Severus's black eyes narrowed but he did not offer a reply, causing Hermione to grunt in frustration. She peered down at her petite hands interlocked with the professor's. After what felt like an excruciatingly long pause, Severus's hand moved between hers, rubbing her fingers gently. Hermione heard him sigh and slowly looked up. His face was far less harsh than before.

"Can we please not argue anymore?" Severus's tone contained a bit of emotion, something he had shown quite regularly that weekend, much to Hermione's surprise. "I don't want to fight with you or anyone. I just want some peace already."

Sensing that he was about to pull away from her, Hermione reached around and grabbed his arm. Severus ran his free hand through his untidy hair and put his head in his palm, peering down at his tea with a blank stare.

"Of course," he heard Hermione whisper beside him, and she inched herself as close to him as possible. "It will be all right, Severus. You'll both be fine. Just keep talking to her, that's all you can do right now until she's ready."

"Right," he murmured back, not making eye contact.

Hermione rested her head against Severus's chin, massaging her fingers against his arm, enjoying the feel of the fabric. Severus could sense her touch beneath his coat and nuzzled his chin against her soft, thick mane. The familiar scent of her shampoo was an additional comfort to his keen senses.

"And if talking doesn't work?"

"Then I will intervene if necessary. I'll certainly write to Hailey, to try and get through to her if she's unwilling to communicate with you. I won't tolerate feuds in this family, Severus, so you two will either get past this together or I will force it out of you both if I must."

Severus glanced down at Hermione, who met his twinkling eyes that now contained a stern, yet amused expression. He cocked his dark head to one side and his lips curled into a wry smile.

"You're quite overbearing, Mrs. Snape. Did you know that?"

Hermione appreciated the lightness in her husband's tone. She responded by jabbing him hard in the chest and grabbing a fist full of the buttons that she loved to touch.

"That's right," she teased, "and don't you ever forget it."
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Unquestionable Love