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The Headmaster's Wife	By : Mrs_HH Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 96743 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 23
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 44
- 45
- 46
Severus Snape had always been good at maintaining a calm demeanour in the face of extreme adversity, and as far as the majority of his students were concerned, the headmaster was his usual surly-bastard-self. And that was fine because Severus was determined to keep the majority of students oblivious to the seriousness of the current situation, especially after Emile Ashbourne's poisoning the previous Sunday. Of course, there were tit-for-tat tensions amongst the school's populace―Severus expected these would continue for quite some time―but he would be damned if they found out exactly what was going on.
However, whilst the students and staff saw the mask that Severus was so used to wearing, Hermione got to see behind it. She witnessed the pacing and the pinched looks as he sat drinking an extra large measure of Firewhisky. She heard him get up on the middle of the night to use the Pensieve. She was also on the receiving end of his foul moods and sharp tongue. Every time he'd upset her Severus regretted it, and with each apology came the intention of trying to modify his behaviour and accept that Hermione was worried and only trying to help. Also, knowing that Severus was under so much pressure, she tried to remain calm and patient. But she realised that her patience was not without limit after a particularly explosive row on Wednesday night.
Given recent events, Hermione had postponed her weekly visit to the Burrow and spent the evening speaking with Emile in the hospital wing instead. She'd sat with him for half an hour after dinner every night since the incident, and it was obvious that, behind the arrogance that made him a model Slytherin, he was a very bright but sensitive boy who wanted to fit in and do well. She noted how he only spoke of his mother― though he did mention his parents as a unit―and couldn't help but draw comparisons between Emile and a young Severus.
Unfortunately, Hermione made the mistake of mentioning this to her partner. After he'd lectured her on the dangers of having favourite students, he told her to stop visiting the boy because he was out of danger and she didn't need another project. This was the final straw, and the ensuing row resulted in Hermione storming off to bed and spurning Severus' advances when he eventually retired for the night. Waking up alone, he knew he had a lot of making up to do, especially when Hermione failed to attend breakfast and lunch, didn't respond to their connection, and didn't visit him in his office at all that day.
Although rowing with Hermione upset Severus as much as it upset her, deep down he knew this was a temporary glitch, and he was looking forward to the weekend when they could escape to London together for some time alone. His focus, therefore, was on the fact that a student had been poisoned by someone who didn't even know them, purely to get at him. His witch had described the act as cruel, and it was, but what concerned―even scared―the headmaster, was that in order to get his attention again the next warning shot would have to be much bigger. Thus, the task of securing the school without the aid of Dumbledore's theatrics returned.
For the recipient to be harmed, the poison, it was discovered, had been carefully applied so that it only came into contact with the skin when the letter was opened. Contact poisons were common, but crude, and this one had been relatively weak. Luckily, Severus already had the antidote in his private stores. Hermione immediately set to work, brewing a further batch in case of further contamination, but the decision was made to prohibit owls from entering anywhere but the owlery. Every piece of mail was also inspected for traces of poison before it was delivered. Thankfully the students seemed to accept the headmaster's announcement that this was because Madam Pomfrey had always thought owls flying in during meal times unhygienic, and he happened to agree with her.
Severus had also requested of the Wizengamot that a contingent of Aurors be assigned around the perimeter of Hogwarts, but was unsurprised when the Minister for Magic accused him of being paranoid. But as the headmaster pointed out, anyone was perfectly welcome to take pot shots at him, but not at his students or anyone close to him. He knew he'd just painted an even larger target on his back, but in some respects that didn't matter; his students were slightly safer than they had been before he entered the law court's chamber.
Pius had also offered Hermione a permanent Auror escort, but she refused it despite the Head of Magical Law Enforcement reminding her that it was only a matter of time before she was targeted again. Severus quickly took issue with her decision, but the curly-haired witch told him emphatically that her acceptance of this protective measure was dependant on his agreement that he needed this level of protection, too. Unsurprisingly, this argument kept rearing its ugly head throughout the week, and they both realised that it would continue to do so until one of the them backed down. But neither would, especially when they both felt they were in the right. Therefore it was agreed that they would try and discuss the matter when they could do so more rationally. It wasn't a conversation that either expected to happen soon.

For all that was going on behind the scenes, the Dark Lord himself could have walked into the Great Hall for breakfast on this particular morning, and Severus doubted that anyone would have noticed. Today was the second Saturday of term which meant one thing: Quidditch trials.
George Weasley had been at Hogwarts all week giving flying lessons to the first years and those who were still not comfortable with riding brooms. Angelina had joined him the day before, and the couple had met Hermione and Severus for dinner at The Three Broomsticks. George's offer to assist Professor Granger with her flying skills had been graciously declined by the woman in question, much to his and the headmaster's amusement. The latter was still convinced―quite erroneously, as far as Hermione was concerned―that he'd be taking her flying in the near distant future.
The atmosphere amongst the students was buzzing with excitement as the hopefuls readied themselves and steadied their nerves with a hearty meal and encouragement from their friends.
At the teacher's table, Hermione and Angelina were trying to cheer up Neville as Adrian was away in South Africa. Minerva was chewing off Severus' ear over something. The noise level in the hall had been steadily rising and finally reached a point where it was becoming difficult to hold a conversation without raising one's voice. The headmaster's scowl appeared, but as he turned to the student body to demand that they pipe down, the hall went quiet of its own volition. Hushed whispers and giggles emanated from the majority of the female students, whilst the younger boys looked on in awe as their eyes fell upon Professors Malfoy and Potter, George Weasley, and Blaise Zabini as they sauntered into the hall like a boy band in full Quidditch kit and the latest broom models in hand.
Hermione's eyes widened incredulously at the quartet, who were obviously lapping up the attention.
"Look at those posers," Angelina chuckled, shaking her head as George winked at her.
Severus leant over and teased Hermione in a low, hushed voice, "I know how you like Quidditch players, but it is rude to stare."
Hermione glowered and hissed, "I'm not," and without thinking, slapped his arm.
The headmaster growled, "I thought we agreed— only small signs of affection," feeling the eyes of some of the female populace now directed back towards their favourite mealtime entertainment.
"That wasn't a sign of affection," Hermione bit back, which earned a titter from Minerva.
"Oh, you've certainly met your match, Severus," she teased as the dark-haired wizard whipped his head round, narrowed his eyes and snarled at his deputy. "And you can take that look off your face, young man. You know you wouldn't have it any other way."
Severus' lips twitched, but his eyes flashed to confirm Minerva's assertion before she continued. "Oh, how I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you two are furniture shopping this afternoon."
"Thankfully, your Animagus form is a cat and not a fly," Severus snarked as Angelina began interrogating Hermione about why they were buying furniture, whilst bemoaning the fact George still wanted a purple velvet sofa.
The coveter of said purple sofa sat down and purred in greeting, "Ladies."
"Did you lot have to put on such a show?" Hermione chuckled.
George smirked. "Of course. Mind you, I think Draco's regretting it now. Someone can't take her eyes off him," he remarked, jerking his head in the direction of Gabrielle Delacour, who was at the Hufflepuff table, staring at the object of her obsession.
"I thought Fleur was joking about Gabrielle still having a thing for Draco," Hermione said in a hushed tone, looking over at the blond-wizard who was spooning scrambled egg onto his plate.
"Obviously not," Angelina smirked. "Bill and Fleur came over for dinner on Thursday. Seemingly her parents are unsure how to deal with it."
"Yeah, because Madam wouldn't think to get off her arse and speak to her sister," George groused.
Angelina glared at him. "She probably would, but Bill said the pregnancy is really taking its toll, and she's been really down since she came back from Beauxbatons."
George huffed.
Angelina ignored her boyfriend and continued speaking to Hermione. "He said she cheered up for a bit after you visited, but then she started getting moody again."
Do you think I should invite Fleur out for coffee? It sounds like she needs to talk, Hermione thought to Severus.
The headmaster took a bite of toast. If you think it would help, there's nothing wrong with going out for a coffee.
Angelina sighed as she pushed her bacon around her plate, and mused, "I think people forget that she's pregnant, and she's allowed to be moody."
"So what's your excuse?" George teased his girlfriend, only to flinch as she went to thump his arm.
"Perhaps I'll have a word with Gabrielle if it starts to bother Draco," Hermione mused.
Severus leaned over to add his two knuts' worth. "I would suggest that as Miss Lovegood is Draco's girlfriend, and given her disconcerting ability to disarm, she may be better placed to speak to Miss Delacour than any of us."
Hermione was about to respond when Missy appeared in between her and Severus.
"Excuse Missy for interrupting Master and Mistress, but Missy is wondering what ingredients you is needing for dinner tonight at Master's London house?"
Hermione raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"I thought we could stay in, and I'll cook," Severus explained nonchalantly.
Hermione huffed and told him unequivocally, "We'll cook, you mean."
"Alright, we'll cook. What would you like?"
Hermione thought for a moment. "How about Italian? I make a lovely mushroom risotto," she told him knowingly, not wanting to let on that it was, in fact, the only thing she could cook from scratch that remained edible. But when she noted his expression at the thought of eating something wholly vegetarian, she added, "I'll add some pancetta for you."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Severus' mouth. "That will be acceptable. And for dessert?"
"It has to be Tiramisu, but I'm rubbish at making desserts, so can you make it?" Hermione asked with a coy smile.
He sighed deeply and rolled his eyes as Hermione practically salivated at the thought of the future dessert. "Very well." Before turning to resume his conversation with Minerva, he added casually, "I'll let you tell Missy what we need, then."
However, he didn't resume his discussion as he noticed Emile Asbourne enter the hall. The boy had only been released from the hospital wing yesterday, and his prolonged stay had been attributed to a bad batch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' Puking Pastilles.
With this in mind, Severus had asked Pansy and Blaise to make sure that, apart from lessons, he didn't leave the Slytherin common room without one of them, in case whoever slipped him the sweet was still out to humiliate the boy. Of course, when George Weasley heard about this fabrication he was less than impressed. Yet once the headmaster's reasoning had been explained, the practical joker grudgingly agreed to go along with the story. However, he warned the dark-haired wizard that he would be offering two-for-one deals on many of their products at the Hogsmeade shop over the next month and with student visits starting soon, Severus would have to accept the consequences.
"Mr Ashbourne, a word if you please," Severus called to the dark brown-haired boy, causing much of the hall to silence their conversations. "Unless your name is Mr Ashbourne you are permitted to continue your own conversations rather than attempt to listen to mine," Severus snarled to the room in general as Emile stepped up onto the dais and approached the headmaster.
With one ear to the headmaster's conversation with the young Slytherin, Hermione gave Missy a list of ingredients and added a few extras. Despite the rows, she was determined that they would have a pleasant weekend in London. She knew Severus was under increasing pressure, and although she wasn't prepared to be a doormat when he ranted and sulked, she knew that a bit of good old fashioned TLC wouldn't go amiss as far as her wizard was concerned.

As Missy disappeared with her instructions, Hermione turned her attention to Emile and Severus.
Unlike Dumbledore, who'd been in the habit of hiding much from his students, Severus had explained the entire situation to him, and was surprised by how well the child accepted the information.
Being Muggle-born herself, Hermione had to admit that she felt a certain affinity with young Mr Ashbourne, and although this may have been one of the incendiary points of their row on Wednesday, she was heartened when on the following night, the headmaster, rather than his usual cursory visit to check on the boy's progress, pulled up a chair and joined her when she visited Emile. It was obvious by the way the young Slytherin listened intently to Severus that he was in awe of him, and Hermione couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. It wasn't just that she was proud of her man, but she was proud of Emile for having the courage to ask questions back. Professor Snape had answered questions when she was a student, but there was no warmth or real thought put behind the answers. But here he was discussing the moral comparisons between Dark Magic and Muggle nuclear power with the boy, and Hermione wished Severus knew just how wonderful it was to witness.
Hermione couldn't help but smile inwardly as she remembered the conversation as they'd walked back to their chambers that night. As it was past curfew, Severus had slipped his hand into hers whilst they wandered through the torch-lit corridors, and she was surprised when he'd stated, "Mr Ashbourne certainly has an old head on young shoulders, although he does seem to quote from your favourite book with annoying regularity."
That had made her snort softly. Severus knew perfectly well that it wasn't her favourite book anymore, but he often teased her about her misdemeanours and foibles whilst he had been her professor.
"I think you'll find," Hermione had replied, "that Hogwarts: A History is a godsend for Muggle-borns. We know nothing about the wizarding world until we receive our letter, and then you get your books and there's one which tells you everything about your school, and by extension, this new world. It becomes a kind of anchor. I mean I expect your mum told you all about Hogwarts, but I didn't have that, and I just wished I'd had someone to tell me about our world rather than me thinking I was a freak for all those years."
"Needless to say you were not a freak, but that is a discussion for another day. And I will admit that, for all her faults, Mother told me about Hogwarts from an early age. My father might not have approved of our magic, but he couldn't stop her from telling me bedtime stories. Well not at first, but that's another matter altogether."
Hermione's heart ached as Severus said this so matter-of-factly, and she'd found herself blurting out, "Well, you can be in charge of bedtime stories, then."
To say Severus was taken aback by her comment would have been an understatement. He'd put his arm around his witch's shoulders and smirked before pressing a tender kiss into her hair. "You are determined that we'll have a normal family life, aren't you?"
Hermione laughed and put her arm around him. "Why would I be determined? I know it's going to happen."
Severus squeezed her tighter, and the couple continued on in silence, thinking about what they had just discussed. The next time either of them made a sound was when their tongues met in battle as Severus covered her body with his on their bed.
But Hermione was brought back to the present when she heard Emile ask, "But, sir, why would they want to speak to me?"
"Because, Mr Ashbourne, you are quite the curiosity as far as the Founders are concerned, especially to Salazar Slytherin," Severus drawled. "You have piqued his curiosity."
Emile hung his head, and began to play with the cuff of his jumper. "He didn't want Muggle-borns in Slytherin, did he?"
"That is an irrelevant question because you find yourself in Slytherin," Severus informed the boy sharply. "So, you will meet me outside the Founder's room on Monday after dinner, and I also wanted to inform you that as you missed flying lessons this week, Mr Weasley has agreed to give you a private lesson this afternoon, and should you wish to practice further, Professors Potter and Malfoy will be more than happy to assist."
The young Slytherin's face lit up with excitement. "Thank you, Headmaster. I can't wait to get on a broom. I'm really looking forward to it."
Severus nodded curtly and dismissed the boy by saying, "Make sure you eat something, or else Madam Pomfrey will nag you incessantly, and trust me that is not something you wish to experience."
"Yes, sir," Emile smirked and prepared to walk back to his seat.
"Oh, and Emile, you know where we are if you need to talk," Hermione added quickly.
The young boy blushed. "Thank you, Professor Granger," he mumbled before walking towards his friends sitting at the Slytherin table.
I believe you may have an admirer, Severus teased in her head.
Oh sod off!

Furniture shopping with Severus was every bit as frustrating as Hermione had thought it would be.
How difficult is it to furnish a one bedroom cottage? she grumbled to herself.
She only realised she was projecting when Severus replied, Obviously, very!
Thankfully, the dour wizard wasn't snarling at anyone as she had feared he might. In fact, although he appeared to be disinterested and aloof to the sales assistants, his discussions with Hermione were quite proactive. Hermione looked around at other couples who were browsing in the shops they visited, and noted how the male halves were happily nodding along and spouting a few placating "Yes, love," or "Whatever you want, love," whilst not paying any attention whatsoever. Not that Severus wasn't capable of doing that―Arthur Weasley was being an obviously bad influence on him―but he was paying very close attention to both his witch's internal and external musings, and as expected when he didn't like something, he wasn't afraid to make his views known. This should have made him a model partner, but sadly, this was not the case.
Severus seemed determined that everything had to be absolutely perfect for both of them, but more especially for her. So if Hermione displayed even the merest hint of indecision, he took that to mean that whatever they were looking at wasn't quite right and that there must be something better elsewhere. Unfortunately, Severus was not in possession of the full facts and Hermione's indecision was not because she was being choosy. And because Severus was so quick to dismiss items because he perceived Hermione to be indecisive, she assumed that he was just being obtuse.
So after three hours of traipsing around furniture stores, Hermione growled frustratedly at Severus' latest, "Well if you're not sure―" and stormed off.
He tried to remain calm, but his blood was boiling by the time he caught up with her and growled in her ear, "What the fuck is the matter with you?"
Hermione just looked up at him, and hissed, "I think we both need a coffee."
"A bottle of fucking whiskey more like," Severus muttered as his curly-haired pain in the arse grabbed his hand and marched off to a cafe she knew.

The cafe in St. Christopher's Place was bustling with Saturday afternoon shoppers who were discussing their purchases, which stores to visit next, or even discussing their plans for the evening. All except for the couple sat by the window. The curly haired woman's jaw was fixed, and her angry gaze was fixed intently on the dark-haired man before her, whose eyes in turn seemed to be daring her to state her case.
"What the hell is the matter of you?" Hermione hissed, after thanking the waitress who placed their coffees on the table.
Severus looked completely befuddled. "What's the matter with me? Nothing's the matter with me. What's the matter with you?"
"What? I'm not the one being indecisive."
"I'm being indecisive?" Severus snarked incredulously. "From where I was stood, you were the one being hesitant. I just assumed you weren't sure about what we'd seen so far."
Hermione's exasperation was evident. "Pretty much everything has been right, but you've insisted we look elsewhere."
"Yes, because as I said, whenever we've come close to making a decision, you've seemed hesitant."
"I haven't," the curly-haired witch countered. "Well, maybe I have, but not because the stuff hasn't been right. I've really loved some of it, but―"
"But what?" Severus interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose before closing his eyes. He was starting to get a headache.
"It's just so fucking expensive," Hermione admitted sheepishly in a forced whisper.
Severus opened his eyes, slowly moving his fingers away from his face. He raised an eyebrow disdainfully. "Pardon?"
"Did you see how much that sofa and chairs we both really liked was?"
"Yes," Severus confirmed with a furrowed brow. He inwardly rolled his eyes as he worked out what might be behind Hermione's indecisiveness.
"Well, it's just a lot of money," she muttered, looking down at her hands, which she was wringing in her lap.
He sighed as she confirmed his suspicions. "Am I to understand then that we could have already furnished the cottage and been back at the flat by now, but we're sat here because you've got it into your head that everything is too expensive?"
"Well it's not just that."
"Care to enlighten me before the shops close?" Severus quipped. But he knew there was something else bothering her, and he needed to find out what it was. "Is this because I'm paying for everything?"
"Sort of," Hermione admitted, before adding quickly, "but...oh, I don't know. I want this place to be ours, but you've bought it, and I know my name is on the deeds, and I just ―"
"Hermione, it is ours. We chose it together, and the only reason you didn't put any funds towards it is because―and we can't get away from this fact―I'm nearly twenty years older than you."
And you've inherited a fortune and own a successful potions business, she muttered dejectedly in his mind.
"There's no need for that," Severus groused. "One, I couldn't help, and the other, I've built up since before you were born."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"So would you mind telling me what the real issue is here?" Severus asked with trepidation. "Is this too much of a commitment?"
"No!" Hermione grabbed his hand before exclaiming, "Don't you dare think that!"
"Well? What else is it?"
"I don't want you to think that...oh, I don't know how to say this," Hermione grumbled frustratedly.
Severus sighed. "I would appreciate it if you could try."
Hermione sighed, knowing that she was trying Severus' patience. She picked up her cappuccino, cradling it as she shifted awkwardly in her seat. "The thing is, I might joke about maxing out your credit card, but I suppose I feel as if I'm taking advantage, and―"
"Would you feel more comfortable if we opened a joint vault and have both our salaries paid into it?" Severus interrupted her. He wasn't in the mood to hear her misplaced worries. Not that he didn't care, because he did, but at no point did he ever think she was gold-digging, and was annoyed that her Gryffindor pride was getting in the way of their shopping trip. Lucius had warned him that going furniture shopping would be painful, but he had hoped that his lordship was winding him up.
"I don't know. Even then I'd still feel like I was taking advantage. I mean, as Headmaster you earn a lot more than me."
"And?" Severus huffed, trying to stay calm by taking a sip of coffee. As he placed the cup back down onto the table, he asked, "Tell me, did your mother go back out to work as soon as you were born?"
"No!" Hermione stated emphatically. "She didn't go back to work until I went to school and even then she only worked part-time until I went to primary school."
"And did your parents still buy things whilst she was unable to contribute equally financially?" Severus asked casually.
"Yeah, of course they did."
Hermione could feel Severus' eyes burning into her as he asked, "So did your mother ask your father every time she wanted to purchase something for the home on the basis that he earned more and was contributing more financially?"
"What? No, of course she didn't. They've always had a joint account and Mum―" Hermione's voice trailed off. She set her cup down slowly, not bothering to look up at Severus. She was sure that his eyebrows were halfway up his forehead, and he was looking annoyingly smug.
Without further discussion, Severus told her, "We can also open a Muggle joint account, and I have no objection to you keeping your own accounts."
Hermione looked at him and gave him a shy smile. "Well, if you're sure. I just don't want you to think―"
"I don't think anything, sweetheart," he told her, putting his hand over hers. "I am perfectly happy to set up such an arrangement, especially if it means we can now purchase everything we want and get back to the flat," he chuckled, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

After arriving at Severus' Mayfair flat and having a cup of tea, Hermione tried not to giggle as her wizard attempted to tune the television that she'd insisted they buy for the place. Admitting defeat, he threw the remote at his witch, and declared that he was going to prepare dessert as he stalked into the kitchen.
Twenty minutes later, Hermione gingerly walked into the kitchen as Severus was beating egg yolks and sugar together, ready to add to the mascarpone.
"Can I do anything to help?" Hermione asked, wrapping her arms around his slim waist and nuzzling his back.
"No, but thank you for offering," he said distractedly whilst adding the soft cheese.
She snaked her way around his body, leaned on the counter and looked up at him expectantly. "Are you adding any booze to the filling? Mum always added brandy," she apprised cheerfully.
Severus gave her a sideways glance. "Who's making this, woman?"
Hermione offered him a low, throaty giggle as she tried to dip her finger into the bowl, only for her wizard to growl and tap her lightly on the back of the hand.
"Well I don't know if I need to add anything to it," Severus mused, dipping his own finger into the bowl and depositing a large dollop of the decadent mixture onto the tip of her nose.
His witch squirmed delightfully in his arms as he descended on her, playfully lapping and slurping at the cream. "Perhaps I'll forgo the marsala and espresso dipped sponge and just eat this off you instead," he purred as he nipped his way down her neck. What he hadn't realised was that Hermione had summoned the bowl, and now had some of the filling on her own finger. She caught him by surprise as his own nose received the same treatment.
"Hardly seems fair that you get to lick it all off me. And besides, I can think of somewhere else I wouldn't mind licking this from," she told him silkily as her clean hand cupped him firmly over his jeans. Severus hissed before Hermione stood up on tip-toes and with a curling tongue, swiped up the mixture from the tip of his nose. She licked her lips, relishing the delicious cream in her mouth.
Severus watched her eyes close as she moaned, "Oh fuck, that's so good."
That was enough to send him over the edge and before Hermione could blink, she was lying on her back on the kitchen floor with her jumper pushed up and Severus easing her breasts from satin covered cups. She revelled in the warmth of his mouth and hands engulfing her soft flesh before she felt cool cream against her nipples. Once again, she felt the warmth of Severus' mouth as he lapped and sucked each bud clean. He removed her jumper and bra before repeating the process several times, each time applying more and more of the decadent mixture until her entire breast was covered. But he didn't stop there, and soon Hermione was arching up as his cream covered fingers meandered down over her midriff, leaving sticky trails for him to lick up.
Once his handiwork had been completed, Severus offered Hermione his fingers. His cock twitched as he watched her hungrily sucking each digit clean. Her eyes burned wantonly into his, and he smirked as they grew wide when she felt his hand popping the buttons on her jeans. She lifted her hips to help him ease them down her body, but pouted when she realised that he'd kept her knickers on. His deep, throaty chuckle only served to tighten the coiled spring in her stomach as she anticipated his next move.
Hermione writhed as Severus' curtain of hair tickled her skin as he carefully licked up his artwork. She couldn't help giggling when she noticed that his usually fine strands were becoming stuck together as they were dragged through the creamy trails. It was at this point that she decided to make good on what she'd told Severus earlier, and as fast as she had found herself on the floor, so Severus found himself on his back with his minx of a witch eagerly pulling his jeans and boxers down his thighs. He looked almost shocked when his bare arse unceremoniously met the cold, tiled floor, and be began to protest, "What are you―"
"I told you I could think of somewhere I wouldn't mind licking this from," she purred, licking her lips provocatively.
Hermione straddled his thighs, and flashed her big, brown, lust-filled eyes at him again before wrapping her hand around his hardening length, pumping him with languid, twisting strokes.
Severus groaned, and propped himself up on his elbows so he could observe her ministrations. She watched his reactions carefully, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. Continuing to stroke him, Hermione ran her thumb over the swollen head of his cock, and witnessed his head loll back as a long, stuttering gasp escaped from his throat. She surreptitiously brought the bowl of the sweet filling closer to her, and carefully so as not to attract suspicion, she scooped some up before applying it liberally to his hard member.
He hissed at the new sensation which slowly turned into a low growl as Hermione licked from base to tip. She took him in deep, humming her appreciation as her own arousal pooled between her thighs. She smeared more cream onto his cock before lapping it up, and ground herself against his leg to try and relieve some of the tension. But Severus had other ideas.
"Turn round, sweetheart," he growled.
Hermione looked up with a slightly confused expression until it dawned on her why he'd made that request. With a lascivious grin upon her face, Hermione turned round and backed up until Severus wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her knickers away from heated sex. She sighed as she felt the air hit her folds, whimpered as his fingers parted them, and gasped when Severus lifted his head to swipe a hard, probing tongue between her slick entrance and sensitive nub.
With her arms and legs trembling as Severus mercilessly suckled her clit whilst slowly thrusting and twisting his fingers into her silken channel, she felt an intense, burning pleasure coursing through her. Practically squealing as his tongue relentlessly lapped and probed, Hermione had almost forgotten what she had been doing before Severus began edging her towards a quick, hard orgasm. But he gently reminded her by thrusting his hips up and causing his velvety hardened flesh to brush against her chin.
As if receiving a wakeup call, Hermione immediately resumed her previous activity and flicked out her tongue, removing the salty bead of liquid from the tip of her lover's cock. Severus' vibrating groan against her engorged bud made her grind down onto his face whilst she engulfed his length fully, and she felt him tense as she greedily bobbed her head up and down his length, while cupping his balls. Squeezing gently, she heard Severus muttering unintelligibly behind her, but after that she too became incoherent as her wizard seemed to double his efforts in bringing about her orgasm. She was so lost that she didn't even feel him begin to twitch and pulse against her. She came, screaming out his name, and was about to collapse when she heard his guttural roar, and her mouth quickly engulfed him to accept his release. Both of them were trembling, and Severus slapped her arse playfully to get her attention. She wiggled her backside before he forced out, "Come here before you fall over."
Hermione turned and gave him a wicked grin before turning and collapsing into his welcoming arms. "What's so funny?" he asked, putting his hand behind his head.
"I quite like it when you spank me," she purred as she nuzzled his neck. Although Severus chuckled, Hermione noticed that he was rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you alright?"
Severus turned his head to look at her and winced. "I believe I will be in need of a massage later after all the effort I put in there."
Hermione kissed him deeply, their tongues still covered with traces of each other's essence, before whispering, "I'm sorry, but I did enjoy it if that makes you feel any better."
Severus growled playfully. "I know you enjoyed it, as did I. It was worth sustaining a neck injury for."
Hermione laughed at his manly exaggeration, and they laid on the kitchen floor for a few more moments before it became too uncomfortable, and Severus leaned forward to pull up his jeans. Hermione followed suit, but smirked as she looked at the discarded bowl that had started all this off. Next time he made dessert she'd be requesting something that required chocolate sauce.

"Well, you sabotaged that nicely. I'll have to make some more now," Severus groaned as he tried to get up from the floor with as much dignity as possible.
"You weren't exactly an unwilling participant, mister, and besides, consider that payback for ruining my potion on Thursday night."
"If you can't concentrate—"
"Excuse me!" Hermione exclaimed playfully as Severus helped her up. "Did your Potions master come up behind you just as you were about to add an ingredient and kiss the back of your neck?"
Well, no..."
"Or did he wrap his arms around you, nuzzle your neck whilst rubbing himself up against your arse, tell you he'd missed you and that he'd been thinking about you all day before bemoaning the fact that you hadn't been up to his office—"
"You forget that I also apologised for my behaviour towards you," Severus reminded Hermione as he leant up against the worktop and pulled her into his arms.
"Just because you didn't get any for nearly two days," Hermione grumbled.
Severus huffed mirthlessly. "Well, maybe your judicious, and rather uncouth reminder that I do indeed have a hand served its purpose. I realised that I must have upset you deeply if you were angry enough to not allow me to touch you in any way."
Wrapping her own arms around his middle, Hermione mumbled into his chest, "I'm just so worried about you. Can't you see that?"
"I know, and I continue to be thankful that you are willing to put up with me and forgive my misdemeanours," he told her softly before pushing his fingers through her hair and tilting her face so he could kiss her on the mouth. "But in response to your original questioning," he continued as if they had not just shared a tender moment, "the fact that my Master continued to breathe for another fifteen years after I qualified as a Master myself, would seem to be testament to the fact that he didn't do any of those things. Anyway, I can't remember hearing you protest whilst we were shagging up against the door," Severus snarked as he rested his chin on top of her head.
Hermione pulled back, looking up at him through her lashes and placing her hand on his chest. "It was rather fun."
"As was that," he told her, quickly planting a kiss to the end of her nose.
"I'm just not sure I'll ever qualify if we keep having fun in the lab during my apprenticeship sessions," she groused dejectedly.
"I know," Severus sighed. "We must both endeavour to adhere to the formal schedule, and treat those sessions with the respect they deserve rather than just another opportunity to spend time together. However, once the allotted time is complete, I think that workbench will be well used," he purred.
Hermione pressed herself up against him, and ran her finger down Severus' slightly stubbled cheek, biting her bottom lip coquettishly. "I think you could be right," she whispered, "but I suppose I better bugger off and let you get on with whatever it was you were doing before I so rudely interrupted you."
Severus released her from his arms. "If you would. I'll make some tea when I've finished."
"That'll be nice."
Hermione walked towards the door before turning quickly and leaning against the door frame. "Oh, and I'm glad we bought the television. According to Ceefax Dirty Dancing is on tonight," she told him, giggling at her wizard's bemused expression. "It's a film. It's mine and Mum's favourite. I've got it on video."
"So we won't need to watch it, then," Severus muttered, getting more ingredients from the fridge.
"Bloody hell, you and Dad will get on so well. That's exactly what he says," Hermione sighed in exasperation before adding more cheerfully, "but Mum just tells him to stop being a miserable bastard, gives him a glass of wine and cuddles up so he can't move."
"And I presume your mother's daughter will attempt to use such tactics on me," Severus asked distractedly whilst adding sugar to the two egg yolks he'd already separated into the bowl.
"Of course," she chuckled, trying to placate him by informing, "It's got loads of really good late fifties and early sixties music in it."
Her attempt to win Severus over caused him to snort disparagingly. "American, I presume?"
"Look, you can be as grumpy as you like, but we're watching it. And if you behave you never know how I will show my appreciation," she teased. "Oh, and by the way, you've still got some mixture in your hair."
Severus seemed unconcerned as he was thinking about how she would be showing her appreciation after making him watch, what he already suspected to be, utter shite. "I am aware," he smirked, looking over his shoulder at her. "I'll have a shower whilst you're cooking dinner."
Hermione smiled, and as she walked into the living room to the sound of Severus quietly chuckling to himself, she called back teasingly, "And there was me thinking I might join you."

She sensed a presence in the doorway. There was no need to look up. She knew who it was, and she knew what they were going to say. Hot tears streamed down her face.
"Did you find him?"
"Yes," Lucius stated shakily.
"Can...can I see him?"
Lucius hesitated. "Not yet. He would never forgive us if we allowed you to see him as we found him."
"I don't want him to be on his own."
"He isn't. Arthur and Pius are still with him."
She looked up at the man stood before her. "But I need to say goodbye," she choked out before dropping her face into her hands and sobbing uncontrollably.
Lucius knelt down before her, pulling her close to his body and wrapping his arms tightly around her, holding her for several minutes. He held her for several minutes, trying to calm her before finally pressing a hard, desperate kiss to her forehead. He pulled back before pushing his fingers through her hair, and whispered, "Look at me."
She lifted her tear filled eyes to find tear tracks on the blond wizard's cheeks. "He is here with us," he said as he took her hand and placed it over her heart. "What you want to say goodbye to is but a shell. The man you love is no longer in that shell. Honour him by remembering him as he was."
"What did they do to him?"
"I cannot and will not tell you."
"Please," she implored, but the blond wizard stoically shook his head. She grabbed desperately at Lucius' filthy, torn coat, noticing the blood smeared on his shirt and neck. "Please tell me how he died."
Lucius' voice was rough as he spoke. "Hermione, please. Do not ask this of me."
Severus woke with a start, his fingers immediately seeking his wand until he realised that the cause of his sudden state of wakefulness was the back of Hermione's hand as it crashed down onto his chest. As his consciousness returned, he heard her sobbing in her sleep, and turned over quickly to pull her into his arms.
"Shhh, it's alright," he whispered trying to shake off his sleep-filled voice. He rocked her gently whilst stroking her hair and continuing to mutter words of comfort to his still sleeping witch. "It's just a dream, sweetheart. Shhh, it's alright. I'm here. I've got you."
He felt her beginning to stir, and pulled back to brush her hair and tears away from her face. Hermione looked up at him with glistening, swollen eyes, and suddenly threw herself at him, continuing to cry against his neck. Calming her took longer than expected and Severus was somewhat fearful to find out what had caused her so much upset.
Eventually, she calmed enough to choke out, "I don't want to lose you."
"I'm not going anywhere," he responded, placing a hard, reassuring kiss against her forehead. She clung to him desperately, bathing his chest with her tears, which slowed until the two lovers were melting into the comfort and warmth of each other's body. For several moments after their emotion-filled union, they whispered declarations and promises until Severus felt the overwhelming need to ask, "What was your dream about?"
As Hermione enlightened him a sense of dread washed over him. Before the end of the war, his death would not have been mourned by many, and frankly, he wouldn't have cared. But now, he knew his chief mourner was lying in his arms, and if a dream about his untimely demise could upset her this much, he knew the reality would devastate her.
Severus just wished he knew what the reasons were behind this apparent campaign against him. As a spy, his role was to receive and disseminate facts, but both Dumbledore and Voldemort knew that one of the reasons he was such a trusted advisor to both of them was because, given the facts, he could assess the real motivations behind them. But he didn't have enough details and that worried him. It seemed more important than ever that they try to persuade Ronald Weasley to train as a spy for them because Severus needed facts, and he needed answers. There had to be more to this than him merely being considered a traitor in some circles, because attempting to take over and control the Ministry seemed an excessive way of telling him that someone was not happy that he'd been a double agent. They were missing a key piece of information, and Severus needed to know what it was.
But one thing Severus knew for sure, as he lay there holding Hermione, was that he had to protect his witch and students, and if it meant that Hermione's mind would be more at peace, then he would contact Pius in the morning and instruct him to appoint Auror escorts for them both.

Severus turned over as he woke to face Hermione's empty side of the bed. An initial sense of panic swept over him until he heard, from somewhere in the flat, her less than dulcet tones singing something from the film she'd made him endure last night.
They'd actually had a very relaxing evening. Despite Hermione's best efforts to denigrate her own cooking skills, she'd blushed profusely as Severus struggled to convince her that he hadn't said her risotto was delicious just to save her feelings. He had genuinely enjoyed it, but he also had to admit that he quite enjoyed watching her devour pudding in what had to be the sexiest display of removing food from a spoon he'd ever had the good fortune to witness. The front of his jeans had to be adjusted several times as he watched Hermione's tongue slip out to accept each spoonful of creamy dessert before she dragged the silverware slowly from between her lips, accompanied by a throaty moan. It came as no surprise that her teasing was rewarded by a passionate, but slow, battle of the tongues before her wizard went to make coffee.
Severus had to admit that although Hermione's chosen entertainment held no interest for him, lounging on the sofa, playing with her curls as she draped herself over him whilst drinking wine was just what they both needed. They'd talked until around midnight when he found his lap full of tired, but horny, witch, and as they finished off in the bedroom what they had started on the sofa, they both fell into a deep, sated sleep until Hermione's nightmare so rudely interrupted it.
Is that bacon I can smell? Is she cooking breakfast? Obviously she is if you can smell bacon.
This presented Severus with a problem. Was Hermione simply cooking breakfast or was she cooking him breakfast? No one had ever brought him breakfast in bed unless he'd requested it of a house-elf or was in the hospital wing, so he wasn't sure what the etiquette was. When he'd made her breakfast in bed, she knew he was doing it, so she stayed in bed. But if she was making breakfast generally and he stayed in bed, would she be pissed off if she had to come and get him? Or if she was making breakfast for him and he got up, would she be pissed off? He'd already upset her enough this week, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess this up for her.
The answer to these roiling questions came as Hermione struggled in through the door with a tray of what looked like sandwiches, orange juice, and a cafetiere of coffee.
"Oh, you're awake," Hermione stated with an air of disappointment. "I wanted to surprise you."
Severus was about to berate her for not levitating the tray rather than struggling with it, but decided that his usual snarky comments were not appropriate this morning. So he sat up in bed, ran his fingers through his mussed up hair, and said, "Consider me surprised. Pray tell what have I done to deserve this?"
"I wanted to do something nice as you've had a really rough week, and I know we need to get back soon, so I decided to make you breakfast in bed. I mean, I know we've had breakfast in bed before, but I wanted to do this for you. The only thing was I then thought it would be awkward eating a full English in bed, so I put everything in a sandwich. I just hope it's not too messy. And I―"
Severus cut her off with a kiss. "You're rambling, 'Mione."
He cupped her cheek, ghosting his thumb across it. "I don't know what to say except thank you. No one has ever made me breakfast in bed before, and I don't care how messy it is because being quite a powerful wizard, I'm quite capable of performing a cleansing charm or dragging you into the bath. In fact, I think the latter sounds incredibly appealing. What do you think?"
Hermione smiled and kissed him back before purring, "Can I wash your hair?"
"You can wash whatever you like, but I'm washing your hair," he mumbled, nuzzling her neck.
His witch blushed, and told him to eat up before the fried eggs congealed. It wasn't long before the bathroom was full of steam, and they were immersed in hot, spicy scented water, doing anything but washing one another's hair.

Severus had to admit, of all the libraries he had access to, the private library in their chambers was the cosiest. He hardly ever visited the castle's library anymore, and the library at Snape Manor was so big that they'd decided to convert one of the rooms next to it into a more intimate reading room. But as he sat at one of the reading tables, surrounded by ancient tomes, he was restless, and the source of his restlessness lay in the box before him.
The last act Lord Malfoy had performed before departing for France was to accompany the headmaster to choose a pair of glasses. Severus had conceded that he needed to get them and had already asked Lucius to go with him. But during their row on Wednesday, Hermione used his insistence that he didn't need ophthalmic assistance as one of her many examples to illustrate that he was a stubborn arse. He just hoped that she didn't think he had capitulated to her nagging.
But despite Lucius' reassurance that these glasses neither made Severus look old, nor indeed like Albus Dumbledore, he was apprehensive about wearing them. He suspected that it was because these spectacles were an admittance that age was creeping up on him. He'd spent so many years feeling older than his true age, and then suddenly he was given a new lease of life, only for his age to run up and slap him. He knew he shouldn't really let it bother him. Hermione was so fed up of telling him that thirty-eight wasn't old that she'd taken to throwing things at him when he started to wallow. Besides, he mused over the fact that Lucius wore reading glasses. Although, the blond one was too vain to wear them in front of anyone— even Narcissa and Draco. Severus suspected that he was also too vain to wear them in public, but the question was, could he wear them in front of Hermione?
She's seen your scars, you twat. Of course you can wear your glasses in front of her.
Tentatively, he opened the box. He removed the glasses, put them on, and looked down at the tome before him. Realising how much easier it was to read now, he wondered if he should have told Hermione that he'd purchased them. But she'd find out sooner rather than later once she'd kicked his godson and Mr Longbottom out of their study.

"Where do you get these coloured, sticky things from again?" Draco asked, pulling one out from the little case.
"A Muggle stationery shop. Next time we go shopping in London, we'll get you some," Hermione told him as she continued writing out her Charms notes.
"Oh, so we do still go shopping do we, Mrs Snape?" Draco teased, which caused Neville to chuckle into his goblet of pumpkin juice.
"Yeah. We'll take Luna next time."
Neville looked at Draco, whose eyes widened before he turned to Hermione and exclaimed, "Are you mad, sweetie? Can you imagine Luna in London?"
"She's got to go sometime," Hermione groused, snapping her textbook shut.
"It's bad enough that she wants me to take her to the cinema. Don't suppose you and Sev would come with us?" Draco almost pleaded.
Neville decided to keep out of this. He remembered what his ex-girlfriend was like in Diagon Alley. He wanted to suggest that Draco put an invisible cord around Luna's wrist to stop her from wandering off, but things were still a little tetchy between the two wizards because of Adrian.
"Well, I subjected Severus to Dirty Dancing last night―"
Draco cringed. "I don't want to know."
"It's a film," Hermione sneered.
"Oh! But just for the record, I don't want to know what you two get up to in bed."
"Likewise," Hermione teased, "except Luna tells me all about her sex life, so by default I know all about yours, but I digress. I can ask him, but I think it will be dependent on the film. I don't think last night was really his thing. But if you take her to the cinema we normally go to she'll be fine. It's never that busy."
"I suppose, but it would be quite nice to go out with you and Uncle Sev. I mean, Mother and Pius are joined at the hip and Father is...well he's in France for some reason that isn't the reason he gave me. And Severus is unsurprisingly tight-lipped, and―"
"Don't look at me," Hermione cautioned mirthfully before a pile of parchment next to Neville caught her eye. "What's this? Are these your notes from your Potions tutorials with Horace?"
Neville handed them over and nodded.
"I thought you were only doing Transfiguration and Charms?" Draco queried.
Before the start of term, each of the assistant professors had been tested in their respective subjects in lieu of taking that N.E.W.T. Hermione and Draco had decided to do the full complement of N.E.W.T.s but Harry had tried to get out of taking any exams altogether. Unfortunately for him, the headmaster put his foot down, and insisted in no uncertain terms that he take Arithmancy and Charms. After all, as Severus pointed out, the Dark Arts are ever changing and how can one teach students to defend themselves if one can't create defensive spells to protect against new hexes? Although he knew Severus was right, it didn't make it any easier when he was trying to get his head around Arithmancy equations that were longer than his arm.
"I am," Neville confirmed. "I know I'm rubbish at Potions, but knowing how closely Herbology and Potions are linked, I asked Slughorn to give me some theory lessons. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere near a cauldron," he added quickly.
"So why is Severus' scrawl all over these notes?" Hermione asked curiously.
Both she and Draco were in fits of laughter as Neville regaled them with the story behind the Potions notes, and included a somewhat passable Severus Snape impression to boot.
"So the next thing I know," Neville continued, "Severus asked to see my notes, and from nowhere appeared a quill dripping with red ink, and he starts decimating the parchment with his scribbling. Then he pointed to a paragraph and said, 'Theoretically, Mr Longbottom, that is correct, but in practice...now think, why would this be better?' and pointed to his scrawl.
"I looked at it his notes, and could almost hear his eyes rolling until it dawned on me that you'd get more juice if the berries were harvested a week later than Slughorn said. Then he asked how my research could assist with this problem, so I suggested we could develop a higher yielding, quicker growing strain, and he just said, 'Glad to see we're on the same page' and walked off."
Hermione was now sprawled over Draco, wiping her tears of laughter at Neville's impression of her boyfriend before the sandy-haired wizard added seriously, "Mind you, I'm glad he did look over my notes. The old man's been acting strangely this last week."
"You're telling me," Hermione grumbled, noticing that Neville was suddenly pale.
"Where is your wizard, by the way?"
"In our library, but he won't have heard you. He cast a Silencing Charm before you guys came round. He'd rather do that than turn his music down," she chuckled before Draco muttered something about Severus being a two-faced bastard as he always told them to turn their music down in the Slytherin common room.
"Well, I better go anyway. I need to call Grandmother and make sure she's still alive," Neville sighed, gathering up his notes and standing to leave.
"Oh OK," Hermione said before adding, "when's Adrian back again?"
He blushed profusely. "Thursday, thank Merlin. I'll see you at dinner or breakfast?"
"If they're not shagging you'll see them at breakfast," Draco muttered under his breath, which earned him a slap on the leg.
"Breakfast probably," Hermione stated. "Sev's decided he needs to be a bit more in the public view after what happened to Emile Ashbourne."
"Understandable. Well, see you later guys," said Neville cheerily.
As Neville left, Draco summoned more tea for him and Hermione, and they started their Transfiguration studying.
"Where's Scarhead, by the way?" Draco asked distractedly whilst reading a passage about Conjuration before mumbling something about 'doing stuff like this with Father when I was five'.
"He's having Sunday lunch with the Changs," Hermione informed him, dipping her quill into ink.
"Twat!" the blond-haired wizard exclaimed. "When is he going to stop denying that he wants to get back with the Weaslette? Honestly, he made an arse of himself yesterday at the Quidditch trials when Ginny's broom got clipped by a bludger. I mean he can move on a broom, but I've never seen him move that fast. Cho was not best pleased seemingly, and I think Blaise is past caring as long as he gets a shag a few times a week."
"But I'm not sure Harry can get past the fact she shagged Lucius, and I'm not sure he's changed enough for it to work from Ginny's point of view," Hermione stated, putting down her quill.
Draco shrugged. "No, but they miss being together. That's a start, isn't it?"
"I don't know, but anyway, how were the Quidditch trials?"
"Good. We've got a Seeker problem, as have Gryffindor. Harry and I might have to step into the breach if we're allowed. Hufflepuff...well Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were alright overall, but the only decent player they have is Cho. George said though that some of the first years will definitely be good enough for next year so―"
He trailed off, noting how Hermione's attention had reverted to a book. "Sorry, have I gone over the allowed thirty seconds?"
Draco had overheard Harry commenting to Ron once that Hermione was always polite enough to ask about Quidditch, but after thirty seconds she'd tune out. Why she ever dated Quidditch players remained a mystery.
"No! This passage about elemental influences and Transfiguration success caught my eye."
Draco snorted. "Oh, because that definitely sounds more exciting than Quidditch." Feigning a yawn, he ducked instinctively when it appeared that Hermione was about to slap him again.

After Draco had left to call on Luna, Hermione went to find Severus. Opening their library door, she was immediately greeted by incredibly loud choral and orchestral music. Having his back to her meant she could try to sneak up on him, but as she reached him, and was about to wrap her arms around him from behind, Severus greeted her via their connection.
Hermione shook her head, and resumed what she had planned to do before kissing the top of his head.
"I didn't know you liked opera," she stated, turning down the volume.
"That's because I don't. This is a requiem mass. There is a difference," Severus grumbled, turning it off completely.
Hermione sighed, realising that his good mood had stayed in London. She gently patted his shoulders with both hands, and huffed. "I'll leave you to it, then."
As she turned to go, she heard Severus exhale forcefully. "Don't go."
She sighed and wrapped her arms around him again, squeezing him tight. "I must admit I've never been to the opera," he continued. "Narcissa always invited me, but I always found an excuse not to go."
Hermione pouted slightly. "Why?"
"Probably because Narcissa's invitations came with a desperate witch, whose entertainment value never saw the light of day. Plus the three hours spent enduring an opera wasted valuable drinking time."
"You're not single now," Hermione whispered.
"No, no I'm not," he agreed, leaning back to kiss her.
It was then that she noticed. "When did you get these?" Hermione asked completely astonished.
"Thursday," he told her sheepishly, wondering if she liked them. "I took Lucius, and―"
"They look great, and hopefully they'll help with your headaches," she told him enthusiastically.
Severus was completely disarmed by her response until she sat on his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and purred, "Plus they're very sexy."
"I wasn't aware that an inanimate object was capable of being sexy," he teased before leaning in for a kiss.
"Alright," she mumbled against his lips, "they make you look even sexier."
Severus pulled back slightly, and asked sardonically, "Are you sure you don't want to borrow them?"
His witch growled at him. "No, unless you want me to fulfil your fantasy," she teased, walking her fingers up his chest and playing with top button of his shirt.
Severus had changed into his suit trousers and white shirt when they returned to Hogwarts. He may have been more relaxed these days, but he still couldn't bring himself to alter his dress code when in the castle during term time. He might put a jumper on in the evenings, but his jeans remained in the wardrobe, and when his presence was required to impart his wrath, the cravat and frock coat miraculously appeared.
"Of course," Hermione continued, "perhaps you in a library wearing glasses is now my fantasy."
"I don't mind a little role reversal," Severus muttered against her neck.
Hermione looked at him sceptically. "So you'll wear the tight shirt, short skirt, stockings, heels and lacy underwear?"
"Your knickers are too small for me," he told her distractedly.
"How do you know?"
"Supposition, of course. Parading around in women's knickers doesn't do it for me. You're mistaking me for some blond bastard," he told her snootily.
Hermione snorted at the thought. "Mmmm. Lucius in black lacy knickers."
"And stockings," Severus added. "Don't forget the stockings."
They both laughed heartily at the image, but Hermione suddenly stopped. She swept his hair behind his ear and looked deep into his eyes before bringing her hand down to cup Severus' cheek. "I've missed you," she whispered, tenderly kissing his lips.
All the raven-haired wizard could say in response was, "I'm sorry. I've been a miserable bastard lately."
"It's understandable, but―"
"But unacceptable," he interrupted her. "I love you," he told her sincerely before admitting regretfully, "and I believe I've been remiss in taking enough opportunities to tell you so this week."
Hermione felt herself welling up, and just before their lips crashed together, she whispered, "I love you, too."
They both wanted to take the kiss further, but their research had to take priority. Pressing their foreheads together as their lips parted, Hermione asked huskily, "Any luck?"
Severus cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "No," he told her, twisting his mouth in consternation. "But either these tomes aren't old enough, or it was a spell of his own creation and, therefore, not necessarily written down or registered. I hope it's the former."
"But it could have been registered," said Hermione optimistically.
"Possibly, but unlikely," Severus mused. "Remember, it would have been registered in Italy, and the ministries only really insisted on spell registers during the eighteenth century. Although, if it had been registered it's possible that the Italian Ministry shared it, and if so it will be in the Lexicon. And if that is the case, we need to speak to Arthur as he works quite closely with the spell registration department."
"I'm sensing a but."
"But," he nodded in deference to the fact that was indeed a but, "I think it's an incantation that has simply gone out of fashion. I reviewed the point at which the incantation is mentioned, and realised that it is at the point where the blood is added. I think it's a binding incantation. Still potentially a dark one, but a binding incantation nonetheless."
Hermione looked perplexed.
"Think about it, the language of the day was vastly different, so To conquer blood and body may not mean what we think it means," Severus elaborated. "The reason you add hair or skin to Polyjuice is because it dissolves and reacts, but if you add blood the reaction is different. It diffuses."
Hermione suddenly realised what Severus meant. "So, you need the binding spell to ensure that the same reaction takes place and that the base is stable. So it literally means conquering the blood so that it does what you want it to do."
Severus' eyes burned with pride as Hermione figured it out. "We may still be wrong," he told her, "but I brought several books back from Spinners End on stabilisation. They'll still be in the bags and trunks in the living room."
"I'll get them," Hermione offered eagerly. "You keep looking in case your hunch isn't right." She smirked as Severus gave her an imperious look as if to say 'When I am ever wrong?'

Hermione pulled the bags of books from the trunks Severus had brought from his old home. She hadn't had time to go through the latest arrivals, and was about to close the lid on the last one when she noticed a long, beautifully crafted wooden box. Curiosity got the better of her, and cautiously she opened it. Nestled in black velvet was a wand. She stared at it, but felt awkward for some reason, and closed the lid softly, realising this must be his mother's wand.
She picked up the bags, grateful for Undetectable Extension charms, carried them into the library and carefully tipped the books onto the table with Severus' assistance.
"We should index all these books," Hermione grumbled.
"Are you nagging, witch?"
"Yes."
"Please desist," Severus groused playfully.
Exasperated, Hermione asked, "How many books do you own?"
The dark wizard shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. I've no idea how large the Prince collection is, nor how many I inherited from Albus." He chuckled softly. "And all the money I earned from Hogwarts went on books, teaching robes, and Old Ogdens."
Hermione huffed. "You need to go through those trunks as well," she said insistently.
"I know. It is not a task I'm fully prepared to deal with at the moment," he admitted. "Being reminded of a father who hated, and a mother who resented me...fortunately you have parents who―"
"There's still time for them to resent and even hate me," Hermione uttered dejectedly. "But come on, you did love your mother."
Severus snorted derisively, but Hermione persisted. "Well you kept her wand, so―"
"What?" Severus interjected, looking at her incredulously. Suddenly a sickening realisation trickled through him.
The curly-haired witch looked confused. "I just assumed that the wand box in the far trunk was hers."
Severus eyes flashed to hers before he swallowed hard, picked up a book and stared at it for a moment. Slowly he put it back down and bounced his fingers off the leather bound cover. "That wand did not belong to my mother."
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The Headmaster's Wife