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The Headmaster's Wife	By : Mrs_HH Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 96914 -:- 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
- 50
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- 52
One Step Closer
Severus quite enjoyed Wednesday mornings. Before breakfast, he had taken to visiting the Founders for what could only be described as a gossip―he would, of course, never call it that. He taught NEWT level Defence, so he wasn't dealing with too many dunderheads, and then after dinner, he would pack Hermione off to Molly's and spend the evening in some hostelry with Arthur, Pius, and, for the first time in a little while, a somewhat reluctant Lucius.
Initially, the blond haired wizard refused to come along; the thought of spending the evening with Arthur and being potentially subjected to stories of his impending grand-fatherhood was not his idea of a good night out. However, as Severus pointed out, if Arthur was gracious enough to ask him, "Will Lucius be joining us?" at lunch on Sunday, then Lucius needed to pull his head out of his arse and damned well make an appearance.

"Good morning, Headmaster," a cheery Welsh voice greeted Severus as he strode into the Founders' Room.
Severus tensed, noting that Helga Hufflepuff was the only founder in their portrait. "My Lady, I―"
"Don't worry, I am not going to ask when your witch is coming to see me. I know she has been on her way here and events regarding you and student welfare have overtaken. That is as it should be, but perhaps you could impress upon her that she will undoubtedly be at a loose end next week when you are away, so it might be a good time for her to visit."
Severus nodded, trying to hide his annoyance at Hermione for failing to see the Hufflepuff founder, despite him passing on various messages.
"Perhaps if you didn't make it sound like you just wanted a gossip about her sex life, Miss Granger might be more amenable," the hissing voice of Salazar Slytherin snarked, which caused the portly witch to a gasp from the portrait furthest away from him. Sitting down in his ornately decorated chair, he addressed the headmaster. "My Lord Snape, I trust you are well."
Severus cringed at the use of his title. No matter how many times it was used―and fortunately it wasn't often―he still hated it, but inclining his head, he provided a gracious response. "I am well, my lord, thank you."
"Excellent. Are you any further forward with discovering the identity of your suspected imposter?" Salazar asked distractedly as Godric Gryffindor appeared.
"What have I missed?"
The Slytherin founder rolled his eyes. "If you had been here on time you would know. However, I can assure you it is nothing of importance unless you count Hufflepuff's face when I accused her of only wishing to speak with the headmaster's companion for the purpose of discussing her sex life."
Gryffindor's hearty laughter rang out across the room. "It's true though, Helga. You're almost obsessed by it, and I think our Miss Granger knows it."
"I most certainly am not." Helga bristled before trying to add innocently, "It may have come up in conversation, but that isn't the actual reason I wish to speak with her, and you know it. The time is nearly upon us."
"We don't know that for certain. The timing is not up to us, after all," Salazar intoned imperiously, his eyes flicking to the imposing figure stood before them.
Sighing at what he felt would become a bickering session, the headmaster spoke up. "Might I suggest that I answer the question you posed, my lord."
"Not without me, you won't," the brusque Scottish brogue of Rowena Ravenclaw announced as she sat down. "My apologies, but I was talking to Miss Lovegood. Highly underestimated individual, if you ask me."
Severus almost chuckled. Luna still had the ability to disconcert him, but the more he got to know her, he began to realise that the young witch's quirks were the least interesting of her qualities. "I find it most unwise to underestimate Miss Lovegood."
Rowena looked down her sharp nose at the headmaster. "I always knew you were an intelligent man."
"You are too kind, my lady. Now, as you are all here, may I continue?"
Godric smirked, knowing that Severus' patience was wearing thin. "Pray continue, Headmaster."
Wondering where best to begin, Severus cleared his throat. "As you are aware, we have secured a spy. He met with someone purporting to be Yaxley on Saturday night; however, he was unable to provide definitive proof that the individual was who he claimed as they have taken to wearing full Death Eater regalia and, therefore, their voices were distorted by their masks."
"A rather unnecessary affectation," Ravenclaw snorted disparagingly.
Severus agreed. The only time Voldemort allowed full robes and masks to be worn was at a revel or raid, but never a meeting. It was the height of pretension as far as he was concerned.
"That said," he continued, "our spy had the presence of mind to bring up a number of conversations that he and Yaxley had shared prior to the Ministry Ball, so unless he's taken to unloading all of his memories onto someone else―which, to the best of my knowledge, he and his known associates are incapable of doing―it is a positive sign.
"What we have been able to ascertain is that there appears to be six in the inner circle with various, as yet unknown, operatives working individually. It seems they all have their reasons for wanting my head on a platter, and Yaxley is using that to his advantage. We can hazard a guess at their identities, of course, but they are organised pretty much as we suspected."
Rowena narrowed her eyes, twisting her mouth in consternation. "Have they asked that your spy take an oath of allegiance?"
"Not as yet, and, I must confess that point concerns me," Severus admitted, placing his hands behind his back; a sure sign that he was apprehensive. "It occurs to me that in not asking for one they either consider him dispensable or they are still testing him."
"That seems entirely reasonable," Godric mused, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair.
Severus could feel the cold eyes of Slytherin upon him before the founder spoke. "Ordinarily, Gryffindor, I would agree. However, I believe something is troubling the headmaster. What are your concerns, boy?"
During his regular Monday morning meeting with his deputy, Severus was discussing a curious incident that happened as he and Hermione returned from Sunday lunch at the Burrow, and following a comment made by Dumbledore, a niggling thought had entered into his mind. As much as he tried, Severus couldn't shake this thought and after admitting his concern to Albus, the headmaster was dismayed when his predecessor concurred with him. It was then that he'd pulled out the staff roster for next week and removed Hermione from her rounds. She had always intended to spend next Wednesday night at Snape Manor, and now―despite her protests―she would be spending every night there under Lucius' protection whilst Severus was in Australia. Pius had also been more than happy to grant additional Auror support to guard their main residence.
"It is possible that our spy is being spied on. Perhaps, given the poisoning of Mr Ashbourne within these very walls, there is an operative in our midst."
Slytherin sat forward, the thrill of a potential conspiracy evident. "Your evidence?"
Severus twisted his mouth in consternation before continuing. "It comes purely from an innocuous comment that Mr Ashbourne himself made when Hermione and I happened upon him in the quadrant on Sunday afternoon. A tawny owl flew overhead and he flinched. Hermione enquired as to why he'd had such a reaction and we were informed that it was this species that had delivered his poisoned letter.
"Now, it may be the most common species used in wizarding Britain, but in this school, because the birds are generally given as gifts, we see far more exotic species. It then occurred to me that there are certain students who at one time had more unusual birds and whose families were quite possibly passive supporters of the Dark Lord, who now only have tawny owls at their disposal. I doubt very much that this is an act of contrition, and one of the first rules of spying is never leaving a calling card or in this case, never have a conspicuous calling owl. It would be easy to send messages back and forth using a more common species. After all, we are only checking the post for curses and poisons; we are not reading content. Perhaps that is something we should now consider."
This piqued Gryffindor's curiosity. "Do you have suspects?"
Slipping his fingers into the pockets of his frock coat, Severus nodded. "A few, but I am endeavouring not to jump to conclusions as this is all merely conjecture."
The annoying thing, as he and Dumbledore had discussed, was that those suspected had not been done anything out of the ordinary.
Silence had fallen over the room before Helga Hufflepuff interrupted it. "Well, it is a perfect time to test your Enforcement Protocol then," she said effusively.
Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement. "It is indeed, madam, but its success can only be proven when there is suspicious behaviour to report, and, as far as we know, nothing has transpired. However, in my experience something will come to light. I just hope when it does, it is not too late."
"Quite," Rowena reflected before Slytherin―having been interrupted by Gryffindor earlier― asked the headmaster again whether there had been any success on establishing whether the suspected imposter at the Ministry was using Luciferan Polyjuice.
Shaking his head, Severus apprised the founders that the Minister was set to return to his office that day and that Pius and Arthur were ready to carry out the test.
"And what course of action will be taken should it Yaxley be masquerading as the Minister for Magic?" Slytherin enquired smoothly.
"Whether it is Yaxley, or someone else, that is for the Head of Magical Law Enforcement to decide. My role―according to a certain witch of my acquaintance―is simply to advise and assist where necessary."
Gryffindor raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "I cannot believe for one minute that you are happy with that."
"It has been impressed upon me that, given my position as headmaster of this school, it is the only role I should consider. However, until we can confirm the identity of the man purporting to be the Minister for Magic as well as ascertain the whereabouts of the real Kingsley Shacklebolt, we can do little more than is already being done."
"Well, I think the headmaster has everything well in hand," Helga said far too cheerfully, snorting slightly at how she'd phrased her comment.
Rowena Ravenclaw sneered at the witch beside her. "Headmaster, as much as I agree with my esteemed colleague regarding your handling of the situation, I would suggest that unless you have more to report, you take your leave before Helga's innuendos deteriorate."
Bowing his head, and almost grateful for his curt dismissal, Severus excused himself. Turning on his heel, he strode towards the door, but sensing that Helga Hufflepuff was about to speak, he drawled before disappearing out of the room, "Never fear, Hermione will come to see you next week."
Or else, he thought to himself.

Leaning against her desk, Professor Granger asked her first class of the day, one of her fourth year groups, "So, who can tell me why we might use the Wiggenweld Potion?"
She hated any lesson with the fourth years, but the two that involved Cillian McLaggen were particularly arduous, even though Severus had taken the young man aside and told him politely―or perhaps that should be menacingly―that mentioning his brother and his Potions professor in the same breath again would result in an unimaginable punishment that the Headmaster would oversee personally.
The student in question still unnerved her. He was staring smugly at her just as his brother would, but summoning all her Gryffindor spirit she carried on regardless, laughing as an answer was thrown out.
"So Muggles can make up more stupid stories about princes waking princesses by kissing them."
"Well," Hermione advised, "some of the best Muggle fairytales have come from the wizarding world, but why would the prince use Wiggenweld?"
Corinna Vass―a rather bubbly witch with know-it-all tendencies―rocketed her arm into the air to await her professor's acknowledgement. Once received―Hermione had an entirely different attitude to hand waving to Severus―the young Ravenclaw informed the class, "Because the princess would have been given the Draught of Living Death and the prince would put the antidote, Wiggenweld, on his lips and wake her with a kiss."
"Thank you, Miss Vass. The Wiggenweld Potion is indeed the antidote to the Draught of Living Death. Now―"
"―I do have one question, Professor," Corinna interjected quickly.
Inclining her head, Hermione smiled at the eager witch. "Go on."
The young witch sat up straight and composed herself. "Well, have you ever been kissed by a prince?"
Knowing precisely that the student was alluding to Severus' family line and hearing giggling rippling through the room, Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know you think that you're being terribly clever, but I can assure you that I am not going to fall for your rather inappropriate question. Five points from Ravenclaw," she chided just as Severus began swearing profusely in her head.
Speak of the devil―
Already uptight, and a little taken aback by Hermione's greeting, Severus was unable to stay his tongue. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Surmising that her wizard was not in the best of moods, Hermione thought better of telling him why he had been the subject of her thoughts. I'll tell you later. What's the matter?
The rings didn't fucking work.
It was Hermione's turn to express her surprise. What?
Pius has just called. He went to see our illustrious leader, shook his hand, and the ring didn't work. However, he mentioned that Shacklebolt was acting incredibly strangely, and―
Sev, I'm standing in front of my class. Give me ten minutes to get them brewing, then meet me in my office.
The couple had been having friendly arguments about the ownership of the Potions professor's office since Severus had stepped in to teach NEWT level potions after Horace had become too ill. He had to admit that over the years he had become quite fond of his sanctuary from the dunderheads, and was not impressed by some of the changes Hermione sought to make. Horace hadn't cared what she did to the place, but he did, and now that he was trying to reassert himself.
Oh, of course. My apologies. I will see you in our office, in ten minutes, darling.

Once the class was happily brewing, Hermione informed them that she would be in her office yet the door would remain open to allow her to hear everything that was going on, and urged them to behave.
She omitted to tell them that the headmaster would also be able to hear the goings on in the classroom. Where would be the fun in telling them that? she thought wickedly, especially if it meant Mr McLaggen dropping himself in it by saying something inappropriate in Severus' hearing.
She'd just cast the one-way Silencing charm and sat down at her desk, when she jumped at the Apparition crack that announced Severus' arrival.
"What did we do wrong?" her wizard groused, pacing the floor in front of the desk.
"Hello to you, too," Hermione grumbled, watching Severus carefully. "Tell me what happened."
"I told you. It didn't work," Severus spat at her.
Pursing her lips in annoyance, Hermione took a deep breath to stop her from biting back. "Did it fail for Arthur, too?"
"He's been caught up with the Wizengamot this morning, so―"
"―So? We don't know that it's failed then, do we?" Hermione admonished, trying to make him see reason. "Perhaps Pius didn't have enough contact. We need to wait for Arthur to try before we declare this a disaster. Christ, this is why I keep telling you not to get so involved," the young professor muttered under her breath.
Slightly humbled by her quiet censure, Severus stopped in his tracks, walked round the desk, and leaning up against the desk, took her hand in his. "Apologies," he mumbled, stroking his thumb across her knuckles. "I find myself a little frustrated."
Hermione gave him a winsome smile. "That's understandable, but the time to get all worked up is when Arthur comes back with the same result."
Severus snorted softly, knowing she was right. Hermione, however, sensed that something else was bothering him as he released her hand and began picking at his nails. "What else is it?"
"Pius has received intelligence that two men meeting the description of the Lestrange brothers have been spotted in Romania."
Hermione gasped. "But they were presumed killed."
"The operative word being presumed, sweetheart."
"Do you think they're just trying to get away or are plotting something?"
Severus' lips twisted whilst he chewed the inside of his cheek. "That is not something I can answer."
Hermione growled with frustration. "When will we be allowed to forget about the fucking war?"
Seeing Hermione visibly upset, Severus crouched down and took her hands. He kissed them gently before reaching up, placing his fingers at the back of her neck and pulling her down to press a soft kiss to her lips. "We'll never forget it. I wish we could, but it is a part of us. Even when the last of these bastards is rotting in Azkaban or in the ground, the war and everything that we did and had done to us will remain, but that doesn't mean we should let it rule us. It's taken me a long time to realise that."
"I suppose we owe it to ourselves and all those who died to make our lives count," Hermione reflected, closing her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his, revelling in the calm she felt in his presence.
Severus took a deep breath before planting a lingering kiss to the tip of Hermione's nose. "I never thought I would be in a position to say this, but yes we do," he whispered before pulling back and resuming his position against the desk. Clearing his throat and allowing his hair to obscure his eyes for a moment, the dark-haired man returned to the subject at hand. "I should imagine that now the rough location of Rodolphus and Rabastan is known, Pius will be liaising with the appropriate authorities to monitor, arrest and extradite them eventually. It will just be interesting to see if the Ministry and press reacts to this in the same way that they have responded to the news of Rostov's arrest. However, I sincerely doubt it." Severus twisted to look at the pile of parchment that Hermione was distractedly fiddling with on the desk.
Not knowing who Rostov was, Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who?"
Severus huffed roughly. "Did you read the Prophet this morning?"
"No, I haven't had a chance."
Noticing how tired Hermione was looking, he sighed. "Well, perhaps if you weren't studying until three in the morning and had woken up earlier, you'd―"
It was Hermione's turn to begin jumping down Severus' throat. "Look, you know how much work I've got on at the moment. My NEWTs start in three weeks and I want to get as much studying done as I can before Thursday so that we can spend Friday night and all day Saturday together as you're going away on Sunday."
Knowing that neither were looking forward to their time apart, Severus bit back the urge to remind her of why he was going away. "Well," he began, trying to remove all trace of annoyance from his voice, "if you'd had chance to peruse the paper, you would know that following the leak of Pius' memo regarding the arrest of Rostov in Australia, there were ten pages devoted to the news."
"Is he the Death Eater you're supposedly bringing back?"
Confirming that he was, Severus explained more about the stooge. "Yulian Rostov was a second tier Death Eater brought into the ranks by Dolohov during the first war. He was involved in numerous major raids and managed to avoid the Aurors by deserting long before that night at Godric's Hollow. Truth be told, the real reason that he has managed to evade capture for so long is because he's been dead for the last eighteen years. But only four people―now five―know that."
"Oh! You didn't...did you?"
"No, I didn't. Suffice to say, it was done on Voldemort's private orders over a matter of principle, and I was given the unenviable task of informing Rostov's assassin of his task. Now, in many respects, who he was or why he died are irrelevant. The fact is, his name has given us the opportunity to go to Australia―albeit under pretence―so that we can bring your parents home."
Pressing her lips together into a thin line, Hermione nodded, acknowledging what Severus was saying but unable to hide her discomfort. She hated it when he talked so nonchalantly about another's death. Of course, she knew he felt guilty for all those he couldn't save, but there were some deaths that he viewed as righteous and unless he was talking about Voldemort and Bellatrix, his cold dismissal of the victim's life always bothered her.
She knew Severus' attitude was not uncommon, and yet she had always been uncomfortable about the almost blasé attitude towards death that she'd encountered from her very first day at Hogwarts. The wizarding world was proud and honour was held in such high regard that death seemed to be an acceptable way of dealing with a lack of it.
To her enlightened Muggle way of thinking, the merest suggestion of someone killing another for slighting their partner would be unconscionable, but she had always had a soft spot for Georgian romance novels where there was a duel over the fair maiden's honour. In fact, she would always remember the thrill she'd felt when Severus told her at the very beginning of their relationship that should any man upset her, they would suffer at his hands. Ron had found that out, but Hermione suspected that he'd been let off lightly, for she knew deep down that Severus was more than capable of killing to defend her honour.
Then again, she wondered whether knowing your world was naturally full of hazard or that you would live for over a hundred years gave death a more common place standing in a witch or wizard's life. But, however death was portrayed in the wizarding world, Hermione Granger would always struggle with it.
"Are you alright?" Severus asked carefully. Just as Hermione was about to respond, a timely reminder of the hazards in wizarding life announced itself. Chaos erupted in the classroom as Ariadne Fuller's cauldron began to melt.
Severus was already on his way out of the door when Hermione brushed past him, reminding him in his head, This is my class, I will deal with it. Sit down.

With no injuries to report―not even to a student's ego―Hermione returned to the office to find Severus sitting behind the desk, marking her fifth year essays.
"Sev, what are you doing?"
Severus quickly scribbled a reluctant E on the page, and put down Hermione's quill. "I thought that would be obvious. You have much to contend with, you are tired, and having a little knowledge of Potions I thought I would assist my Potions professor―and more importantly, my witch―by marking some of these remarkably passable essays."
Hermione looked down at her hands and quietly thanked him both for helping and the compliment that he'd paid her fifth years, of whom, she had to admit, she was quite proud.
Severus stood and walked to the side of the office, before beckoning Hermione to him. Wrapping his arms around her buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, needing to partake of the comfort that her scent always provided.
"Now, as I have endeavoured to ease your burden, could you see your way to making my life a little easier by going to see Helga?" he asked, resting his chin atop Hermione's head. "She understands how busy you are, and that circumstances have prevented you from attending her on occasion, but I won't make excuses for you any longer. I am not known for nagging, sweetheart, so instead I will insist that you see her next week whilst I'm away. She is expecting you."
Hermione huffed against Severus' chest, feeling like a teenager who had been guilted into tidying their room. "Oh, OK."
"Hermione, be a little respectful," the surly wizard growled, "she is a founder, after all."
"I know, but―"
"But what?"
Hermione sighed deeply. "Well, anytime I have seen her, all she wants to do is gossip about―"
"Perhaps," Severus interrupted, "but if Godric asked to see you, you would be there in a heartbeat."
"I beg your pardon?" Shocked by Severus' inference that she was being biased on the basis of House, Hermione tried to pull away, only for his arms to tighten around her.
Severus' chuckle reverberated deeply against her ear. "Oh, come now―I'm just as guilty, but in this instance, I think it may be wise not to underestimate a Hufflepuff."

Hermione felt ill. She had a splitting headache and indigestion, and they were both caused by the headmaster.
Severus had contacted her not long after he'd left their office that morning to say he had been summoned to an emergency board meeting, and returned in a vicious mood whilst everyone was having lunch. When the headmaster's drawl rang out through the school, calling all staff to gather in the staffroom in ten minutes, they all knew something was wrong. Those sat at the head table wolfed down their food before, as one, they decamped to their impromptu staff meeting.
For the next fifteen minutes they were told that Shacklebolt, in a move reminiscent of Cornelius Fudge, had authorised a commission to look into the effectiveness of Severus' initiatives at Hogwarts, and they discussed how the Minister―as Minerva so eloquently put it―could take his commission and 'shove it where the sun don't shine.'
Of course, whilst the staffroom was filled with Severus' calm delivery, Hermione was being treated to a full expletive-laden version of why the surly wizard thought the Minister for Magic was interfering, and now she was attempting to escape to the dungeons for some peace, antacid, and a headache potion.
"Professor Granger," a familiar voice called as Hermione was about to descend the dungeon stairs, and turning, she saw Theo Nott jogging towards her.
Of the Slytherin cohort in Hermione's school year, Theo had been more of a loner. Despite his father being a known Death Eater, he'd never felt the need to be part of Draco's gang. Hermione had always had quite a lot of time for him until their sixth year where he laughed when Draco teased her about her blood status. But, of course, that was all forgiven―although not necessarily forgotten. And since his father's disappearance, and Severus had―as headmaster―assumed the role of his legal guardian, she and Theo developed a tentative friendship. However, it wasn't long before the young professor realised that, on his own, Mr Nott was quite the flirt.
"Theo, you know I should really take points for running in the corridors," she teased the young wizard.
Reaching her slightly out of breath, Theo began to chuckle. "I know you should, but then if you do I think you should dock points from Professor Malfoy, as I've just seen him running in the opposite direction when he saw Gabrielle and her little friends."
Hermione couldn't help but to snort with laughter. Severus had told Draco to do the responsible thing and sit down with Gabrielle, find out why she kept trying to get close to him, and put a stop to it―nicely. Draco obviously wasn't ready for that confrontation.
In her best impression of a haughty professor, Hermione advised, "Well, as Professor Malfoy has set such a terrible example, I will overlook your infraction just this once."
Theo nodded his head courteously. "You are too kind, Professor."
Hermione was beginning to wonder if this courteous nod of the head was a Slytherin tradition or something which Severus had instilled in them. "Anyway, what can I do for you?"
"Well, I was wondering if I could take you out for coffee?"
Placing her hand on Theo's arm, the Gryffindor looked at the young man solicitously. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm already seeing someone."
The young wizard sighed with feigned disappointment. "Damn! I'd so hoped it wasn't true."
"Flirt!"
"Well, at least I flirt―it's better than being a sycophant like Blaise," Theo grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning up against the wall.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What's Blaise done to piss you off?"
"That's what I want to talk to you about," Theo told her, looking a little pained.
Concerned that the Slytherin should find it necessary to seek her out, the young Potions professor began fidgeting with her teaching robes, taking a moment to consider the situation. "I'm just going to my office. We can have coffee there."
Pushing himself away from the wall, Theo purred, "Why, Professor Granger, are you asking me out now?"
"Behave!" Hermione exclaimed before jerking her head in the direction she was heading. "Come on, I need a good old chinwag after the staff meeting I've just had."
"Then I am glad to be of service," Theo said before bowing with a flourish. "Lead on, my lady."

Theo looked around the once familiar Potions professors' office, wide-eyed. "Don't tell me that you've managed to get Snape to throw out all those awful jars of creepiness."
"That's Professor Snape or Headmaster to you in this office," Hermione chided, knowing that in private Theo avoided calling Severus anything in case the surly wizard disapproved.
The Slytherin sat down, sprawling on the chair adjacent to Hermione's desk as she called Winky to bring them coffee. It seemed to be another Slytherin standard that they all had their coffee black―apart from Narcissa; the only thing she ever had black was her maiden name.
"Is that what you call him?" Theo asked cheekily.
"Only in a professional capacity."
Waggling his eyebrows, the young man decided to try and push his luck. "What about when he's got you bent―"
Hermione gasped before blustering, "Don't you dare finish that sentence or else I will deduct points, Mr Nott. We may be friends outside the classroom, but technically I'm working at the moment, and―"
Holding up his hands, Theo was quick to apologise. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry." However, he couldn't hide the smile that slowly crept onto his lips whilst observing Hermione's cheeks bloom.
Handing him his coffee, Hermione tried to find the right balance between her professional and off-duty demeanour. She had to admit that being a professor when some of the students were the same age as her was hard.
"Unfortunately, the jars still exist, but they're in our private lab. They are creepy, but when you hear how the headmaster acquired them, it makes you see them in an entirely different light. They're useful in very rare potions, but why he couldn't have kept them in his own stores I'll never know."
"Probably to keep up appearances; make him seem like the big, bad professor," Theo mused, spooning another sugar into his coffee, which earned him a disapproving glare from the dentist's daughter.
Hermione snorted softly. "Well, it worked."
"He wasn't that bad to us," Nott revealed quietly. "He didn't―he still doesn't―take any shit from us. He did have a well honed bullshit filter, but then again, being a spy I suppose it was quite useful. I always found him to be surprisingly approachable when you really needed him. He was even really good with the girls when they―well, you know."
"That doesn't surprise me, actually," Hermione declared, sipping her coffee, knowing how Severus had successfully worked out how to handle her at her hormonal best. Yet knowing that Theo had come to her for a reason, she was determined to get to the point. "Now, I believe you wanted to moan about Blaise."
Bravado ebbed away from the Slytherin, and sitting forward with his elbows resting on his knees, he hung his head before taking a deep breath. "I think he's messing around with Pansy."
Hermione's breath hitched at the possibility that her friend's boyfriend might be playing away. "Oh Theo, I'm sorry. Are you sure?"
"I don't have definite proof, but you know Blaise and Ginny have been fighting a lot because of Potter―"
"That's Prof―"
Theo huffed exasperatedly. "Yes, Professor Granger, I know, but the thing is Pansy has been acting strangely too."
Hermione's brow furrowed. She didn't like Pansy Parkinson at all. She never had and she never would, but she also knew that Slytherins were incredibly possessive and liable to jump to conclusions a little too quickly when it came to matters of the heart. "How so?"
Cupping his mug, Theo sighed deeply. "She's never where she says she'll be and Blaise does a disappearing act at the same time. I just haven't caught them together yet."
"Assuming they are together," Hermione cautioned, urging him not to jump to conclusions. "Look, I don't know what you want me to―"
"―I'm thinking about Ginny more than me," Theo interrupted before looking at Hermione sheepishly.
"That's very altruistic of you," Hermione commented, watching as his expression hardened.
"Look, I know she likes Potter, but I know Blaise and should he dump her, it will not be pretty. He's very good at oiling his way around people. He's an opportunist, like his mother, but when the chips are down he's a nasty piece of work. His problem is that he's never had anything humbling happen in his life, and he thinks he can get away with whatever he wants.
"I mean the worst that ever happens to him is that his stepfathers get richer. He's not branded the son of a convicted Death Eater, and I wouldn't have minded if my father was like Draco's. Fuck, I never thought I'd say that," he snorted, shaking his head and chuckling incredulously. "But, at least Mr Malfoy cared, even if in a weird way. My father was never a father. He didn't want me. He told me that he'd made a mistake by marrying someone as young as my mother. You know, it makes me laugh when people go on about the age gap between you and Snape. What is it? Twenty years?"
"Nineteen."
"Not forty five then?" Theo snorted. "But that wasn't the only reason I was an unwelcome addition. He thought having a child made him seem weak in the Dark Lord's eyes. He was so desperate to be his most loyal. It was laughable, really. He'd been with Voldemort since the beginning and still someone like Snape could rise up and become his most trusted advisor in just three years."
"What do you mean 'someone like Snape'?"
"He was younger than me when he took the mark, wasn't he? And then all of a sudden he was Voldemort's right hand man and if I can quote my father, 'How does a jumped up half-blood piece of shit get to have his ear and I don't?'"
"Because Voldemort chose him; he trusted him," Hermione sighed.
Theo laughed mirthlessly. "And that worked out well for him, didn't it? His most trusted shafting him like that."
Hermione's eyes became so fierce that Theo recoiled. "Would you have had it any other way?"
"No! Hermione, I didn't mean it like that. Snape has been more of a father to me over the years than mine has. I just mean, there's my father idolising a bastard who passes him over for this bright young man and said young man was working to bring Voldemort down."
"He wasn't though initially."
Theo was taken aback by Hermione's candid remark.
"I'm not naïve, Theo. I've seen Severus' memories. It's true that he had different reasons for joining and he had no time for, as he puts it 'inelegant violence' but I am in no doubt of what he is capable."
Shrugging, Theo quipped, "We all make mistakes."
Hermione considered the young man before her and placed her mug on her desk. "I think we're getting away from the point. It's great that you're worried about Ginny, but I'm more concerned about you."
Theo puffed out his cheeks. "There's really no need. I've always known that I've been second best as far as Pansy's concerned."
This took Hermione by surprise, her expression sinking into one of confusion as Theo clarified his comment.
"I'm not Draco. She's always comparing me to him, and the fact that he's seeing Luna is driving her mad. Pansy's a vindictive cow and I'm worried that she might try and split them up too."
"How?"
The Slytherin shifted in his chair and looked up at Hermione nervously. "Does Snape know that Draco and Luna are living together?"
Cold panic trickled down Hermione's spine. Severus had stumbled upon the fact that Luna was more or less living with his youngest Arithmancy professor after he called unexpectedly on his godson a few days before. The hour was late, and he found the pyjama clad couple cuddled up on the sofa drinking hot chocolate. Until then, they had managed to keep their living arrangements quiet by being the ones to visit their friends after curfew rather than accepting guests. The headmaster conceded that the situation was of his own making because he'd forgotten to close the Floo connection between their rooms, and he didn't blame Draco for taking the opportunity to exploit his godfather's lapse.
Personally, Severus was content to allow them to continue living together after witnessing the levelling effect Luna had on Draco, but the headmaster had impressed upon them both that should he hear of this arrangement from another source, he would deny all knowledge of it, but would expect them to return to sleeping separately immediately.
However, the fact that Pansy Parkinson could have this information was terrifying, but before she piled more issues onto Severus, Hermione needed to ascertain how much the senior Head Girl knew.
"Severus knows they spend a lot of time together," she told him casually. "Does Pansy know—"
"Not as far as I'm aware―at least, not yet. But Blaise does because we went out for a drink with Draco last night and he let slip that he needed to get back because Luna would be waiting up for him."
"And if Blaise is spending more time with Pansy..."
"Exactly."
Hermione nodded, resigned to the fact that Severus would have to be informed, and two of her friends would have to be inconvenienced. "I shall pass on your concerns to the headmaster immediately, and I'll pop down and see Draco once we've finished here. But what about you and Pansy? You can't be sure she's playing away."
Theo began to laugh mirthlessly. "If not him, then someone. We haven't had sex for weeks, which is unusual in the history of Pansy Parkinson and sex, so she must be getting it from somewhere. And from what I've heard once Blaise has been there―well, I may as well kiss her goodbye. It just ties up."
Hermione had heard―perhaps a little too often―about Blaise's prowess in the bedroom, but he obviously wasn't stellar enough to stop her redheaded friend from thinking about a certain green-eyed professor with a rather unusual scar on his forehead. However, there was something in Theo's voice that worried her.
"You really like her, don't you?"
Looking up at the young professor, Theo simply nodded.
Considering this for a moment, Hermione's role as one of the pastoral professors kicked in. "Theo, look, one of the things this war has taught us is that life is too short, and you might really like her, but you've got to like yourself more. If you're really concerned then you have to confront her, and if she denies it but you are still not convinced, then you need to end it. It will be kinder to you in the long run, and with your NEWTs coming up next year you don't need this doubt hanging over you."
Theo sighed deeply, twisting his mouth in consternation. "Thanks, Hermione," he said quietly before his tone changed completely. "Are you coming out with us all on Friday night? Draco said he wasn't sure if you were."
Hermione shook her head, huffing incredulously at the Slytherin's sudden changing of the subject. "No, Severus is taking me to Le Fay."
At hearing the name of the most expensive and exclusive restaurant in wizarding London, Theo's eyes looked as if they would pop out of his head. "Bloody hell. Is he proposing or something?"

Sitting at his desk, distractedly picking at his late lunch, Severus almost jumped as the voice of Arthur Weasley unexpectedly sounded in the room.
"Have I caught you at a bad time, Headmaster?"
His already meagre appetite immediately disappeared, and pushing the plate away, Severus stood to take the call. "Not at all," he lied. "Any developments?"
"We've had a positive result."
Severus was dumfounded. He'd convinced himself that Arthur's attempt to ascertain whether the Minister for Magic was an imposter would also fail, and found himself at a loss for words.
"Yes, it's a mystery to be sure," Arthur continued genially, noting that the headmaster was flummoxed, "but I'm sure all will be clearer after a good stiff pint later today. I was saying to Pius that as long as you don't think it will be too provincial for Lucius, we ought to go to the Knut and Sickle this evening. Be good to have a change of scenery and the ale is more palatable than anything old Tom or Aberforth can serve up. Usual time?"
With a reserved chuckle, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling more acutely the pressure building behind his eyes. "Lucius is quite comfortable with provincial; it makes him feel superior," Severus chuckled. "Yes, indeed. I look forward to it," the bewildered professor drawled as the call ended as abruptly as it started.
Slumping back down into his chair, Severus closed his eyes, rubbing his aching temples to stave off his impending headache.
"So they are also wheeling out the real Kingsley it seems," the portrait of Albus Dumbledore spoke, shattering the silence that Severus was craving in order to think.
"That's the only conclusion I can draw," Severus admitted wearily. "Our only consolation is that they appear to be keeping him in good physical health otherwise Pius would have noticed that something other than his behaviour was amiss. We must assume that Kingsley is under a rather hefty Imperious."
"I wouldn't say that was the only consolation. At least the charm on which you and Hermione worked so hard has proved its worth, my boy," Dumbledore stated quietly.
Thumping his head against the back of his chair, Severus exhaled sharply. "Only you could think the success of a charm is a comparable consolation over a man's life," he muttered loud enough for Albus to hear. "And yet our consolation's work is sadly not complete. Now we must find a way to continually monitor Yaxley or whoever it is we are dealing with."
Albus' eyes glinted as he watched his successor drag his hands down over his face. "And I have every faith that way will be discovered, Severus."
Closing his eyes again, the younger wizard swallowed thickly before leaning forward and pulling his discarded plate towards him again. Stabbing a cherry tomato with his fork, he held it up as if examining it to discover a hidden secret.
"I wish I did," Severus mumbled before the tomato was no more.

The last of Professor Potter's students were leaving the Defence classroom when a distracted Severus arrived to set up for his NEWT level class. After Arthur's call, Hermione had popped up to see him and regaled her conversation with Mr Nott. All in all, nothing that Severus heard today could be considered good news.
"Headmaster, can I have a word?"
Upon seeing the imposing figure of the headmaster striding into the room, the dawdling students fled as if dosed with Laxative Potion and in need of a friendly bathroom. Pleased that his mere presence could still inspire dread, Severus smirked. "What can I do for you, Professor?"
"Well, it's about Hermione," the younger wizard stated whilst continuing to gather up his teaching notes.
Surprised by the topic of conversation, Severus arched an enquiring eyebrow. "Go on."
Harry stopped stuffing parchment into his bag, and pulled himself up to his full height. "Well, she said that Lucius Malfoy is going to be babysitting her whilst you're away."
"I dispute the term babysitting, but essentially that is correct."
Knowing that this would not be an easy conversation and that Severus was always early to set up his NEWTs lesson, Harry flicked his wand at the door and locked before continuing, sounding a bit nervous. "Well, I just...do you really trust him?"
"In what regard?"
"Well...in all regards. Do you really trust him to protect her? Look, I know he's trying to turn over a new leaf, but Hermione told me about what happened before you two got together and―"
"Lucius and I have had this conversation, and I can assure that there is no issue in that respect, but I thank you for your―"
"No, look," Harry interrupted, finding it difficult to get his point across. Severus could be intimating at the best of times, but Harry knew all too well how badly it could turn out if the older wizard felt affronted. "Do you think he can actually protect her?"
Pinching the bridge of his nose―his headache was still niggling him―Severus' retort was simple. "If I didn't trust him to protect her, I would not have asked him."
"But we could protect her," Harry protested almost pleadingly. "The Founders entrusted me to be a guardian of those who will secure our future and I have no doubt that means you and Hermione, so let me protect her."
Severus leant up against one of the desks, carefully placing his briefcase atop it as he considered his response. "I believe that should the occasion arise you would be able to protect her, but as a professor of this school, your priority is to your students, who are the future of our world. Hermione will be spending her evenings at Snape Manor whilst I am away and will be Lucius' sole focus. Pius has also agreed to provide additional Auror protection for her. However, there is a reason why I am tasking Lucius with my partner's protection."
Harry raised his eyebrows as he awaited the former Head of Slytherin's reasoning.
Fucking hell, Lily used to give me that look when she was pissed off with me, Snape mused.
"What do you know of Familial Bonds, Mr Potter?"
"I only know what Sirius told me. He said it's where one family swears to protect another. He implied that Dad made one with him."
Severus somehow managed to rise above the overwhelming need to make some form of snide remark. "In essence, yes. It is a bond made by the head of one family to protect all the members of another. It would have been for your grandfather to make the bond with your... godfather, not your father―which is entirely possible as I believe your grandfather was gracious enough to grant him sanctuary when he could no longer, understandably, live with his parents."
Harry knew, at least now, that Severus had no love for pure-blood rhetoric, but it still surprised him to hear the headmaster being understanding of his childhood nemesis.
"When my mother died," the older wizard continued, "Lucius offered to make a Familial Bond with me, but Abraxas would not hear of it. That is essentially why I was made Draco's godfather. It was a gesture of intent that when Lucius became head of the Malfoy family he would make the bond thus protecting me and, should I ever have one, my family. Just before I became headmaster, Lucius made good on his promise."
Looking perplexed, the new Head of Slytherin ventured, "Well, he didn't do a very good job, did he? He delivered you to Voldemort that night, so how can you trust him with Hermione? And besides, Hermione isn't your family yet."
Harry immediately regretted his outburst as Severus bore down upon him menacingly. Recoiling, the younger wizard staggered backwards until a desk halted his progress.
Inches from Potter's face, Severus growled, "Oh, but she is―she is my family. And Lucius may have delivered my summons to the Dark Lord, but he also told me to get my arse as far away from Hogwarts as possible. He warned me that the old man was becoming more deranged and that there was no reasoning with him, but at the end of the day, Lucius had to be seen to obey. If he had not done so the consequences for his family, should you not have brought Voldemort down, would have been dire."
Family had been an alien concept for Severus until recently. He had a mother and father, but he'd never considered them to be a family in the sense that he'd wanted or needed, and any relationship or friendship he'd entered into had been dysfunctional on some level or other. But since Hermione―even ignoring any bond that existed between them―he'd always known that she was far more than his girlfriend. She was something so much deeper and more profound. She wasn't just his lover, his friend, his confidante: she was everything to him, and through her he had a chance to prove that he could be a better person, maybe even become a father and have an extended family. Yet even if it was just the two of them, she was his family, and no one―not even her closest friend―would belittle that.
Harry blurted out his attempt to placate the angered man, "What I mean is, you're not engaged yet, and―"
"That is correct. We are not yet engaged but after we make the next Declaration of Engagement, then I will be asking for her hand. By Wizarding tradition, I have already accepted her as family, however, the fact that Hermione and I are soulmates negates even that. She is part of me, as I am part of her."
"So you're going ask her soon, are you?" Harry asked, trying to lighten the mood.
Severus shrugged.
"Do you think that is why Lucius and Draco came to care for Hermione?" Harry mused as Severus withdrew. "I mean they wouldn't have known that you two were soulmates, but you must admit that some really strange things started happening between you after she saved your life."
With his back to the Defence professor, Severus snorted. "I have no doubt that their regard for Hermione is genuine."
"Oh God, I know they both adore her, but it just seems a bit coincidental, especially when Draco gets so protective of her."
Leaning against the desk again, Severus considered this as Harry added more seriously, "All I'm trying to say is that Hermione is like a sister to me, and I don't know if Ron and I will ever get back to the way we were, so she's the only family I have left aside from the Dursleys―and you can imagine how awkward that is. If anything happened to Hermione, I don't know what I would do."
Knowing perfectly well how the green-eyed wizard felt, Severus reminded him, "You are not alone though. Aside from Hermione, you still have Molly and Arthur, and perhaps if you took your head out of your arse and told Ginevra that you wanted her back―"
"She's still with Blaise," Harry grumbled.
Pushing off from the desk he was leaning on, Severus flicked his wand at the blackboard and his lesson plan began to appear. "Something tells me there may be trouble in paradise."
"Something or someone?"
Rolling his eyes, Severus snarked, "It was the statue of the Architect that told me. What do you think?"
Harry laughed, trying to contain his excitement that things may not be well between Ginny and Blaise. "Well, you are the headmaster: anything's possible. Anyway, I wouldn't have you down as a gossip."
The headmaster arched an eyebrow, his impassive mask firmly in place. "I merely pass on any relevant pieces of information that are mentioned in my presence."
"And who told 'Mione?"
"Now, now, Mr Potter, one must never reveal one's sources."
"Doesn't matter anyway," Harry mumbled dejectedly. "Even if I did ask her out, it would take a long time to get to the way things were between us."
Severus exhaled forcefully. "If you don't ask her soon, it will take even longer."
"Fair point," Harry sighed.
Severus snorted, and with another flick of his wand the desks moved to the side of the classroom. "More than fair, I should say. Now, I thank you for your concern regarding Hermione, but I can assure you that I trust Lucius to protect her. However, I am also relieved to know that there are other capable wands ready to step in should the occasion arise.
"Actually, I meant to ask; how is the Duelling Club? I understand there are a number of participants from each house."
"There are, and they definitely enjoy the exhibition duels. Filius and Minerva were brilliant and they're all looking forward to our duel, especially after Neville kicked my arse at the last one."
Severus' deep laugh resonated through the empty classroom. "Confidence is a wonderful thing, is it not? Keep Mr Longbottom away from cauldrons and he is quite a force to be reckoned with."
Harry scowled. "Yeah, well, it was a fluke."
"Of course it was," Severus snorted, stowing his wand now that the classroom was reorganised appropriately. "So when would you like me to 'kick your arse?'"
Closing up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder, Harry shrugged. "First session after Christmas?"
Severus sat down at the teacher's desk and smirked as Harry reached the door. "Always happy to oblige, Professor."

Friday night arrived far too quickly for Hermione Granger. She'd finished teaching for the day, and had just come back from the salon that Narcissa recommended she use before the Ministry Ball, and was now pondering what to wear. She pulled out her trusty little black dresses, worrying about whether they were too Muggle before deciding that she didn't care.
Smoothing down her dress of choice and putting on the ruby bracelet and pendant that Severus had given her as part of their declarations, she took one last look at herself in the mirror. Unfortunately, her expression wasn't one of excitement. As much as she was looking forward to the evening ahead, it brought into sharp relief that because they were attending Narcissa and Lucius' divorce party tomorrow night, tonight was the last night she and Severus would spend completely alone before he went to Australia. It was only now that she realised just how much she was going to miss him.

There were a number of exclusive wizarding restaurants in London―Hermione had already been to The Golden Phoenix―but none were as exclusive as Le Fay, whose clientèle ranged from the British wizarding aristocracy, European wizarding royalty, and Middle Eastern Magi. The owners were unconcerned by money or celebrity status. All that concerned them were real connections and bloodlines, and Lord Snape had to admit that being the Head of the noble House of Prince did have some advantages when one wanted to make dinner reservations.
However, Severus found it very interesting that when the confirmation of his table request was owled to him, his pretentious title had been eschewed and replaced by 'Headmaster.'
The entrance to this elite establishment was rather inconspicuous. To passing Muggles it looked like an old, long-closed fishmongers, but the derelict door led to a plush courtyard which contained burning lanterns, leafy trees and a gold lacquered water feature on the far wall. A pathway of luxurious royal blue carpet led from the dilapidated door up to broad white marble steps. Atop the stairs stood the austere concierge who skilfully kept the gaggle of press away from arriving and departing guests.
However, soon as the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry began to walk up those steps with his hand protectively pressed into the small of his witch's bare back, nothing could stop the frenzy of press flashbulbs and questions which accompanied them.
For fuck's sake, surely we can't be that interesting anymore, Severus grumbled in Hermione's head.
Whatever you do, don't smile. They'll think we're up to something.
When have you known me to smile before the general public? Severus huffed, before adding more lasciviously as he moved behind her so that prying eyes could not see how he allowed his hand to skim over the sumptuous black silk covering Hermione's backside, And besides, who says we're not?

The gold chargers and cutlery from their exquisitely light starters were being cleared away by the unobtrusive waiters when Severus realised that Hermione seemed a little distracted.
Dabbing his mouth with a fine linen napkin as their crystal goblets magically refilled, he inclined his head, considering her for a moment. "Is everything alright?"
Looking up at him, Hermione gave him a soft smile, not knowing quite how to word her feelings. "Yes...well, it's just that...oh bollocks!"
Severus' brow furrowed, wondering what on earth had caused her to stumble over her words.
Hermione smiled bashfully. "It's nothing bad, but you're going away, and―"
"I'm going to retrieve your parents," Severus reminded her.
Pressing her lips together, she nodded before taking a deep breath. "I know, and I'm trying to be positive, but what if―" Hermione's voice faltered as her fears for her parents' return began to rise within her.
She managed to curb the tears that were threatening to fall until Severus placed his hand over hers and uttered softly, "What have I told you? Whatever happens, we will deal with it together."
Accepting the proffered handkerchief that Severus had conjured, Hermione discreetly dabbed her eyes, careful not to disturb her makeup whilst apologising for becoming so emotional.
Severus' lips twisted in consternation. He knew this would be an emotional and worrying time for Hermione―he wasn't immune to it either―but given how Hermione had taken to kicking off the covers last night, despite the chilled night air, he suspected that there was another reason for her sensitivity, and he mused that its imminent arrival couldn't have come at a worse time. But he wasn't going to mention it lest her temper suddenly flared as well. Overly emotional Granger was easier to handle than her ranting counterpart.
"There is no need to apologise. We can go home if―"
"No, don't be silly. I'll be fine, Sev―honestly. Besides, I've always wanted to come here ever since I overheard Draco bragging about coming here in our fourth year. It sounded amazing, but I knew that as a Muggleborn I'd never be allowed into the courtyard."
Severus had been in the process of taking a sip of wine whilst his witch was talking, and it took a great deal of effort not to spray it everywhere when she mentioned Draco's bragging. Coughing as the excellent vintage stung his throat, and holding up his hand to his perfectly coiffed companion to show that he was well, he choked out, "I'm sure he did make it sound amazing, especially as it was all in his head. Fourth year, you say? The age of entry to this establishment is sixteen. Lying little sod."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide and blush deepening at being duped by the cocky Slytherin's tall tale.
"And as a half-blood," Severus continued, the usual velvet returning to his voice, "there was a time when I wouldn't have been allowed in here either. However, I am not sure that it was just the fact that I am betitled―which extends certain privileges to you as my companion―that got us our table. Lucius said the owners are sticklers for etiquette, so when I received the confirmation of our reservation I was rather surprised to be addressed as Headmaster rather than Lord Snape."
Hermione smiled softly. "Perhaps they've realised that the great and the good aren't just confined to inbred bloodlines, and I think you are far more respected than you give yourself credit for. And that's always nice to know."
"Perhaps. Anyway, I hope the restaurant exceeds your expectations, my lady," Severus teased.
"It does, thank you," Hermione enthused, looking around the intimate white room with ornate gold leaf details, gold candelabra and velvet carpet. The main dining room was even more impressive, but Severus had requested a private room away from prying eyes. "It's wonderful, and the food is to die for. You know, I don't deserve you."
"No, you don't. You deserve someone far better than me, but I have no intention of letting you go."
Recalling Theo Nott's throw away comment that Severus taking her to Le Fay might have signalled a proposal, Hermione blushed, and reached over to put her hand on his before informing him that she had no intention of letting him.

The food and wine continued to be exceptional and the couple chatted animatedly throughout the main course, discussing everything from starting to catalogue the library at Snape Manor, going to Italy at Easter, and what they planned to do with Hermione's parents should they be brought back successfully from their exile. What they didn't talk about was the school or the recent shenanigans at the Ministry.
As dessert was brought out―a decadent and elaborate three-chocolate affair with spun sugar and a raspberry foam, which Severus couldn't help but ridicule for its pretentious name ―Hermione asked coyly, "Remember the first time we went to a restaurant together?"
Severus' black eyes slowly rose from the dish of chocolate to meet hers. Of course, that 'first date' had been in a Muggle restaurant where their anonymity allowed for a certain level of misbehaviour. He'd also been wearing Muggle clothes which meant that it was far easier to 'entertain' him rather than when he was buttoned up to the nines in a very expensive looking, dark blue―verging on black―three quarter length jacket and matching trousers with crisp white shirt. The three button collar was left open to reveal the ever present cravat. It was an outfit that wouldn't have looked out of place on Lord Malfoy, but, as far as Hermione was concerned, Lucius wouldn't have looked nearly as good in it.
However, despite being in a private room, Severus' demeanour was much more reserved than it had been on that day. Leaning back in his chair, whilst casually rolling the stem of the glass between his fingers, he studied Hermione carefully as if weighing up when his words would have the most impact. "I am unlikely to forget. It is just a shame that I am sitting opposite you on this occasion, otherwise, given the rather delicious split up the side of your dress, I would have given you a repeat performance."
Hermione felt her breath hitch, but managed to remain calm―or so she thought. Her voice was a little unsteady when she managed to speak. "Would you now?"
Severus said nothing, but by the intensity of his stare, she knew that he meant it and thoughts of his hand sliding inside her black lace knickers made her shift awkwardly on her chair as she tried to assuage the tension building in her core.
Hermione's love of words, Severus had discovered, was not confined to the page. She could be turned on by subtle innuendo, especially at the end of a long day or by having utter filth dripped into her ear whilst in the throes of passion. But what really made her putty in his hands were occasions like this where he seemed guarded, but his words betrayed him.
Again he considered her carefully, watching as she nibbled and wet her lips whilst wriggling uncomfortably in her chair. He knew the signs, and Severus decided that now was the time to deliver his well practised brand of calm seduction.
"I can't wait to take that lip of yours between my teeth as I run my fingers through what I am now sure is your soaking pussy," he purred seductively. "You are wet for me, aren't you, my sexy minx?"
All Hermione could do was squeak a feeble, "Yes."
The front of Severus' trousers tightened uncomfortably, his mouth watering at the thought of going down on her later. "Good girl," he growled, taking a sip of wine.
His witch whimpered before he suddenly noticed a mischievousness in her eyes and felt something warm against his hardened member. Looking down, he saw Hermione's small stockinged foot stroking along his length.
"Why are you hard?" she asked coquettishly, enjoying the growl that resonated in his throat.
"You know perfectly well," he hissed, revelling in the feel of her teasing. "The thought of savouring all the delights between your thighs always makes me hard."
Hermione shivered at his emphasis of the world 'all.' Since they had taken their physical relationship to its new level, Severus had, on several occasions, taken his time to pleasure her fully, and the newfound intensity had her begging for more.
"And I love it when you do," she admitted softly, pressing against him a little harder which caused him to grab her foot to still her ministrations before he lost all control and had her over the table.
"Is that an invitation?"
Desire flashed in the young witch's eyes. "Do you need an invitation?"
"For certain things, yes."
"You are such a gentleman," she teased, "so, yes, that was an invitation."
The corner of Severus' mouth twitched before surprising Hermione with his response. "An invitation that I must respectfully decline. There is a time and a place for such things, and given that I fully intend to make love to you repeatedly tonight in our chambers, now is not it."
Hermione sighed and rewarded him with a beaming smile. "How can you go from being such a naughty bugger to the sweetest man I know?"
Without hesitation, Severus' replied matter-of-factly. "Because I love you, although," he added, "I doubt that I am the sweetest man you know."
The atmosphere in the room changed completely, and with emotion quickly filling her voice, Hermione told him quietly, "I love you so much."
Leaning forward, the dark-haired wizard took her hand, his thumb ghosting over the back of her hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. A moment later a pained expression flitted across his face before he hung his head and mumbled, "I'm going to miss you."
Hermione's breathing became deep and ragged, fighting back her tears as she observed the publicly taciturn man before her. "You'll call me though, won't you?"
Snorting softly, Severus nodded. "Of course I will." He then drew his bottom lip between his teeth, his brow furrowing. "I...I would very much like to call you every day that we are apart."
As touched as Hermione was, a lascivious grin settled upon her lips. "We could always have Floo sex, you know."
Severus' eyes widened as he flicked them up to stare at the woman before him. She never failed to amaze him. His dark eyes sparkled before with feigned bluster, he protested, "Really, Miss Granger, that is an utterly filthy suggestion."
"What?" Hermione protested playfully.
Continuing to play along, the wizard let go of her hand and leant back, his eyes continuing to burn into hers. "I find myself shocked that you should know of such things."
Picking up her small glass of dessert wine, Hermione placed it to her lips as she snorted, "Really?" before taking a sip.
A deep chuckle resonated around the room. "No, not really, but I must confess that I have never had Floo sex before."
"Neither have I," admitted Hermione, watching Severus take a spoonful of his dessert.
Holding the spoon just short of his mouth, the Slytherin nonchalantly enquired before devouring the mouthful of decadence, "Shall we pop each other's Floo sex cherry, then?"
"Gladly," Hermione purred before anyone who was stood outside the door of their private room would have heard the couple descending into fits of laughter.

Returning to their chambers, both slightly lightheaded from the fine wines they had imbibed, Hermione noticed a slight reticence had fallen over her wizard.
"Is something wrong, love?"
Averting his eyes, Severus took a deep breath, his body tensing. "I confess myself a little apprehensive."
"Like you said, it will only be a week," Hermione began, but was prevented from speaking further as Severus interrupted her.
"That's not what's bothering me," he informed sharply before stalking off into his study, leaving a bemused Hermione staring in his wake.
But instead of slamming the door as he usually would after delivering such a curt response, he walked to his desk and rummaged through one of the drawers.
However, Hermione was left not knowing what Severus was doing, and found herself sinking nervously on the edge of the sofa, chewing the inside of her cheek and wringing her hands, as she tried to work out what had caused his sudden change of mood.
Upon his return to the living room, Severus immediately saw the worry in her eyes and castigated himself for letting his own insecurity cause her anxiety―especially now.
Walking over to her, the penitent man sank to his knees and taking her hands in his, planted a soft, lingering kiss on her knuckles. "Forgive me for snapping," he implored, stroking the back of her hands soothingly. "My apprehension seems to have affected my ability to curb my tone once again. However, I have been thinking about this moment for a few weeks, and now it has arrived, I am not ashamed to confess that I find myself nervous.
"I had originally planned to give you this at the restaurant―which was why I requested a private room―but when I saw you getting ready this evening, I decided that, for propriety's sake, it would be prudent to wait until our return. After all, you do look ravishing tonight, and if I had done this earlier, I might have ended up disrespecting the moment with a quick fumble."
They both huffed nervously at his last comment before Severus reached into his pocket and produced a box―the style of which was all too familiar to Hermione now.
"Oh, Sev," Hermione breathed as he carefully opened it, tentatively showing her the contents.
She looked at the bracelet and gasped. It was a cuff style set with a large central Asscher cut ruby which, like the one in her pendant, was surrounded by diamonds that extended down the separated shoulders until they converged into a solid platinum band.
But as beautiful as this heirloom was, the focus of Hermione's attention was on the wizard before her, and the significance of the gift that he offered. She knew that after this fourth declaration, Severus would ask her to become his wife, and the thought left her quite giddy.
Sensing her distraction, panic swept over Severus, and he asked with more urgency than intended, "Is it too soon?"
Looking at him with soft, warm eyes, Hermione shook her head, offering him a small smile. "No. It's just... well after we make this declaration, I know what is coming next, and―"
Severus' heart sank as doubts flooded into him. He had the proposal planned―they had been together only a matter of weeks when he'd decided on it―and now he wasn't sure that she was ready. There were still a few weeks to go before he intended on asking for her hand, but maybe it still wasn't enough time. Summoning his trusty stoicism, he sat back on his heels and whispered, "I understand."
"No, you don't," Hermione admonished him fiercely. "You only understand what that self-deprecating brain of yours wants you to understand, and it is wrong. All I was going to say is that I am one step closer to where I want to be, and if you asked me that question now, my answer would be the same as it would have been weeks ago and what it still would be in ten years' time."
Relief washed over him as Hermione spoke. It was moments like this when his witch stood up to him with such passion that Severus realised how much he loved her. He took her hand in his, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over her ring finger. "I can assure you that you won't have to wait that long," he told her honestly.
"Good," Hermione proclaimed, staring defiantly into her lover's eyes before her lips began to twitch and her eyes could no longer hide her mirth. Descending into a fit of giggles, she felt Severus pulling her tightly against his chest, his own laughter reverberating deep in his chest.
They both pulled back at the same time, but every time they looked at each other laughter ensued, until eventually Severus cleared his throat, and closed his hand over the box that Hermione now held. Both stilled and just stared at each other as the laughter was replaced by a calm solemnity.
Finally, Severus spoke; his rich, steady voice enthralling his witch. "Hermione Jean Granger, would you do me the honour of accepting this token of mine and my family's esteem and affection, in the knowledge that it represents part of my heart? All I ask in return is that you replace the part that I give you with part of your own."
Without hesitation, Hermione cupped his face; her lips crashed against his, and, for the first time, Severus didn't need to hear her confirmation because her sweet, rapacious kisses left him in no doubt of her answer.
"I love you," he breathed against her swollen, well kissed lips whilst undoing her hair clip to allow her curls to cascade down her back.
Hermione moaned as his lips trailed down from her mouth to her chest, whispering breathlessly, "I love you too," as her lips found his once more.
They were in no hurry to take the evenings inevitable conclusion into the bedroom. They found themselves laying on the sofa―Hermione on top of Severus―languidly kissing whilst his hands roamed freely over his witch's thighs and back or his long fingers kneaded her rounded buttocks.
The increasing tension between them was on the verge of spilling over when Hermione pushed herself up to look into Severus' eyes. "There was mention of you making love to me repeatedly tonight."
Severus' hand came up and he threaded his fingers through Hermione's hair before leaning up to kiss her tenderly. "There was indeed, and as I am a man of my word," he purred, "would you allow me the pleasure of pleasuring you, my love?"
Hermione crawled off her wizard and held out her hand, the wrist of which was now adorned by her new bracelet. "I would be delighted."
Wasting no time, Severus accepted her hand as he stood, scooped Hermione up into his arms and strode into their bedroom where he made good―repeatedly―on his promise whilst two golden orbs danced happily on the ceiling.
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The Headmaster's Wife