Eighteen

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. I intend no infringement and am making no profit.

***

"Where is he?" I muttered distractedly, glancing at the clock for the fifteenth time in the last three minutes. It was virtually impossible to locate anything in the towering mess of boxes that had become our living room, and I was fairly certain I'd just snagged my pantyhose on one of them.

A loud crashing sound from the vicinity of the door caused me to yelp and rip said pantyhose further. I was in the midst of an impressive stream of expletives when Severus' head appeared above one of the many boxes.

"More of your mother's gifts, I presume?" the silky voice called. I began to whirl around in an attempt to respond, and the echoing reeeeeeeeeeeeep informed me that I'd finally destroyed them altogether.

"Damn it!"

Somehow he had managed to insinuate his long frame in between the boxes, and before long he'd located my lair. Having found it impossible to traverse the living room when I'd exited the bathroom twenty minutes before...foolishly thinking I was dressed quite nicely and prepared for the wedding, at that...I had discovered that the house-elves had since deposited yet another shipment of my mother's endless housewarming gifts in our living area.

I was, truthfully, mere moments from snapping. Severus and I had been together a year, and he'd witnessed some profound displays of anger on my part, but he hadn't yet been present when I had completely and utterly lost it. Three months of relentless planning and fretting over Ginny and Luna's double wedding had reduced the leash on my temper to a hair's breadth.

"I don't think," he murmured, encircling my waist with a warm hand and looking me over appreciatively, "that such language is entirely becoming of the maid of honor."

"Fuck that," I snapped back, pulling at my streaming pantyhose. Severus chuckled richly.

"I told you not to wear those."

"Make yourself useful and get me out of here!" I wailed. I'd meant it more as a joke, but he lifted me clear off my feet and began carting me through the labyrinthine arrangement of boxes. I was dazed, both impossibly aroused by the nonchalant strength with which he carried me and amazed at his bizarrely accurate navigational skills. I had officially moved into his Hogwarts rooms only two days ago, and since that time my mother had constantly inundated us with gifts, good wishes, and more gifts. If I hadn't managed to locate a path, how had he?

"How did you do that?" I demanded, admittedly jealous, when he set me down gently at the bedroom door. He was absently running a finger up and down the silky material at my waist, and his eyes didn't appear to have strayed from my cleavage since he'd entered the room.

"Have I told you how grateful I am to Miss Weasley for this dress?" He flashed me a wicked smile, and I had to duck to avoid the oncoming kiss.

"Not now!" I cried, still flustered. My hair, thank God, was being shockingly obedient due to yet another one of Ginny's marvelous products, but the dress she had chosen for me was hardly modest. It was about knee length, more or less appropriate for an afternoon wedding during the summer, but the spaghetti straps and loose neckline made me feel horrendously self-conscious.

Severus straightened up, the seriousness returning to his dark features. "You are right. I will change quickly." He cast a withering glare at the many boxes in our living room. "Do tell your mother that we're fully convinced of her support. She may cease with the gifts now."

I laughed as he disappeared into the spacious closet. I was curious to see what he'd chosen to wear. Ginny and Luna had been adamant that guests could wear Muggle clothing if they so chose, as they'd both been enamored of Tonks' Muggle wedding dress the summer before...hence the rather revealing Muggle ensemble they'd chosen for me.

I shed the pantyhose and stared critically at my bare legs. I wasn't the type to become ridiculously preoccupied with my looks, but I also wasn't anxious to show up to my dear friends' wedding without at least wearing pantyhose under the dress. A quick glance at the clock on Severus' bed-table confirmed that I had no more time to brood over it.

"Severus!" I yelled, casting the ruined garment into the garbage and hastily reviewing my appearance in the mirror. "We're going to be late!"

When he reemerged from the closet, I had to consciously prevent myself from dropping the tube of lipstick in my hand. He was wearing black trousers and boots, of course, but his shirt was a rich dark gray and still partially unbuttoned at that. He'd maintained the shorter haircut, and the combination of the freshly starched, unbuttoned shirt and shorter hair accentuated his shoulders to beautiful effect. I released a reflexive moan of appreciation.

"Not now!" he mocked, gathering his cloak and taking me firmly by the upper arm. "Come. We shall see if I can navigate this disaster again."

***

Once Severus had wandered off to find Remus, the best man, I set off on my own in search of the two brides. Mrs. Weasley had truly outdone herself on the occasion of her youngest children's wedding. I located Harry and Ron first, both pacing to and fro in front of the fireplace, looking equally ill.

Struck by a sudden feeling of panic, I stopped dead in my tracks upon seeing them. "You two aren't having second thoughts, are you?" I whispered in an undertone. Harry's indomitable hair was more mussed than usual, and Ron was beginning to look rather green.

"No," Harry said immediately, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, Hermione, can we, uh... Can we talk?"

I went on automatic alert, hackles rising slightly. "Is this about Severus? I told you, as cruel as it sounds, that I'm not staying unless you can accept that he and I are together. You two have known this for months now."

"No, no...it's not about that," Ron snapped rather tersely. I was relieved to see that neither had reassumed the rather thunderous expressions that had overtaken their features a year ago when I'd revealed to them that Severus and I were together. After months of Ron's rants and protestations and Harry's sullen glares, they had finally come to accept that I would tolerate none of their childish behavior.

Their decision to issue dual proposals to the girls had been a bona fide blessing for me. The month prior, Severus had grown impatient with my thoroughly Gryffindor inability to read between the lines; he'd finally asked me outright if I oughtn't just live with him, as I was having to commute from his rooms daily anyhow. We had taken rather zealous advantage of Professor McGonagall's willingness to look the other way concerning my comings and goings. By all accounts she was thrilled that Severus was finally displaying the telltale signs of imminent domestication, and she made no secret of the fact that she was ecstatic our relationship had come to fruition as I'd desired.

Harry and Ron had been so abominably distracted when I'd tried to gently break the news to them that eventually, after smacking them repeatedly and raising my voice to a level far greater than normal, I'd simply snapped it out and left the room. Neither had said much regarding the subject since that time, and if it was their preoccupation with their impending nuptials that was responsible for their sudden acceptance, then I was absolutely grateful for it.

They led me to the foyer of The Burrow. Harry continued to pace, and Ron leaned against the door jamb, still distinctly green in pallor. Finally, as Harry released an agitated breath, Ron spoke up.

"My dad's going to kill Harry," he whispered in a voice fraught with terror. I suppressed a snort of amusement.

"What are you on about? Your dad was thrilled when you two proposed. He loves Harry. And even if he didn't, I suspect Ginny would force him to," I added wryly. None of us had expected that fiery Ginny would accept anything less than our sincerest support of her decision to marry Harry.

That remark, mercifully, cracked a hint of a smile in the stiffness of Harry's tortured face.

"No, you don't get it." Ron was looking back and forth frantically as though he suspected the Ministry was listening in on our conversation, ten Aurors crouched outside the door with illicit pairs of Extendable Ears. "Ginny's pregnant. She just told Harry yesterday."

"My God!" I exclaimed...rather too loudly, in hindsight. Both boys suddenly hissed and ducked, apparently expecting Mr. Weasley's bevy of Auror assassins to strike. "What is it with the past year? Everyone's getting pregnant." First Tonks had given birth to her little girl, and then Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, and Hannah Abbot had followed in quick succession. Three-quarters of the girls from my year had long since married, and they were now evidently hellbent on repopulating Wizarding Britain.

"D'you think he'll murder me?" Harry's voice was shaking. From the kitchen, the sounds of Mrs. Weasley's hasty last-minute preparations increased Harry's anxiety. I was beginning to feel a bit on edge myself, though due to an entirely different concern. I'd promised Ginny and Luna that I would pass the final inspection of their dresses before the procession began, and I wasn't keen on facing her wrath if I were to miss the appointment.

"No, I don't think he'll murder you, Harry. You're nervous, and you've had a great deal thrown at you the past few weeks. You're being melodramatic. Besides which," I added, resisting the urge to bounce in place with impatience, "it certainly didn't bother Mr. Weasley when Tonks gave birth less than nine months after she and Remus married."

"But Tonks isn't his daughter!" Harry's beautiful green eyes were impossibly wide.

I chewed at my bottom lip worriedly. "True. But really, Harry, I've no idea what else to tell you. She must be reasonably far along if it hasn't been brought to her attention until now."

Harry nodded absently. "Six weeks, I think she said."

I offered him as gentle a shrug as I could manage. "Then there's nothing to be done. Her parents are going to know when she starts showing that it happened before the wedding, and you're just going to have to accept that fact. What else could you potentially do?"

"Elope to Tibet."

My already frazzled patience was running suddenly quite thin. I feigned smacking him on the arm as I had when we were younger. Ron opened his mouth to protest on Harry's behalf, so I raised a warning hand against him as well. He shrank back against the door.

"Don't even tell me that Luna's pregnant."

"N-No. Not that she knows of, anyway."

"Good." I turned back to Harry. "You're overreacting. You're getting married today, and there's nothing that her parents can do to stop you. Eloping is not an option. Now..." I tried to calm my voice, still worrying about Ginny and Luna. "Fix your clothes...and fix your hair...and then the two of you need to get outside and take your places. I'm going to go check on the girls."

"Thanks, Hermione," they mumbled in unison, Harry fidgeting with his tuxedo and Ron brushing off his already rumpled dress robes. I personally thought it was going to look rather ridiculous to have one couple dressed in the Muggle fashion and the other in Wizarding dress robes, but theretofore I'd managed to withhold my opinion. I wasn't about to open my big mouth fifteen minutes before the ceremony.

I dashed up the stairs to check on Ginny and Luna, who were sequestered in Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom as they finished dressing. I had never been the blatantly-sentimental type during wedding ceremonies, but the moment I entered the room, tears began to fill my eyes. Luna was helping Ginny lace up the bodice of her dress, her own emerald green robes a perfect match for Ron's. I could barely see her face through the burnished curtain of her hair.

"Hermione!" Ginny flailed wildly in the constraints of her gown, trying to give me a hug, and Luna admonished her softly. She finished lacing the dress, and Ginny flew at me, gathering me into an enthusiastic hug. "I'm getting married today!" she cried happily.

I nodded, not trusting the state of my voice. Both girls had had an exciting couple of months. Luna had succeeded her father and was now editor-in-chief of The Quibbler, a job for which we'd all known she was ideally suited. Ginny, putting her invaluable people skills to good use, had decided to offer Fred and George her talents in expanding their booming business. It suited all parties thoroughly: Fred and George attended to the experimentation and development of their products while Ginny handled the business and public relations issues. I'd never seen her happier than when she'd Flooed me to brag about her first paycheck.

"So how is work?" she asked, fussing with her hair. The cream-colored gown and low neckline showed off her lovely, radiant fair skin. Quashing a brief moment of envy, I smiled and tucked a stray red wave behind her ear.

"It's been great so far. We just finished stocking the infirmary for next fall."

"Already?" both girls exclaimed in admiration. Madam Pomfrey and I had been spending all our spare time attending to the brewing for the infirmary, a respite Severus had appreciated immensely, as he was putting the finishing touches on an article to be submitted to a professional Potions journal in the near future.

"Yes, believe it or not," I insisted with a light laugh. "On Monday we'll start with the rest of the stocking."

Luna was standing before the mirror, putting on dangling crystal earrings in the shape of birds. "How did your moving go?" she called in her peculiar, dreamy tone. "Ginny said your mom sent you presents."

"She hasn't stopped sending me presents," I griped good-naturedly. "It's a far cry from the woman who acted like she'd disown me for dating my former teacher."

Ginny was pulling on one of her ubiquitous pairs of death-defying heels. "I told you she'd get over it," she informed me brightly. "She just needed time. Besides, you said your dad was crazy about Sn...Severus."

I flashed her a grateful smile. Everyone, with the exception of Ron and Harry, had put forth considerable effort to be kind and accommodating to Severus now that our relationship had been cemented by cohabitation. Harry and Ron's silence was just as enjoyable, however.

"He did. They get along wonderfully well. I'm shocked, actually." I shook my head, remembering my father's endless stream of praise for Severus' manners and intelligence. "I thought they'd disagree over everything, but I guess they have a fair bit in common."

The girls had finished with their preparations and were ready to go downstairs. I dashed down ahead, fulfilling my Muggle duty as maid-of-honor to banish the grooms to the garden lest they catch a glimpse of the brides beforehand. Ginny and Luna then took refuge in the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley fussed over them ceaselessly and doled out our bouquets. Ginny's contained lilies, a perfect complement to her dress, and Luna's was an unusual arrangement of orchids. Mine was the simplest, a lightweight arrangement of small blooms and baby's-breath, but it suited me. I was already terrified that I would trip halfway down the aisle, as I had nearly done as a bridesmaid at Tonks' wedding; contending with an elaborate bouquet would only have intensified my nervousness.

"All right," Mrs. Weasley murmured, lowering the veil over Ginny's glowing face. "Time to take your places."

We obediently lined up before the back door. Tonks had turned down the opportunity to be a bridesmaid in order to remain with her daughter, but as soon as the first chords of music hit the air and I had emerged from the house, I could see her waving to me from the front of the crowd. Waving back demurely, I nodded at her and commenced with the slow, torturous steps of the march. I could feel everyone's gazes on me, and while they were completely benevolent, I was anxious to have my portion of the ceremony over with.

Once I had reached the makeshift platform at the opposite end of the aisle, I calmed considerably. The ceremony proceeded perfectly up until Harry lifted the veil from Ginny's face, whereupon Tonks started crying so loudly that the perpetually outspoken Cassandra Lupin joined in as well. I offered Remus a consoling smile, and he merely shook his head in fond exasperation. Even with both of his girls wailing, he still looked impossibly happy. That, much more so than the wedding itself, began to make me feel dangerously teary-eyed as well.

I caught Severus' attention and was pleased to find that he had weathered the sentimentality admirably. He was standing toward the back, obviously reluctant to mingle with the enthusiastic crowd closer to the brides and grooms, but he appeared to be comfortable alongside Professor McGonagall. As the guests lined up to shower the happy couples with hugs, kisses, and never-ending congratulations, I slipped away and headed toward him.

***

"I think that you have had enough to drink," he informed me softly, plucking the champagne glass from my hand. In my euphoric and mildly inebriated state, the warmth and authority of his grip on my wrist was suddenly electrifying.

"It's my best friends' wedding...all my best friends...and that's only my third glass," I retorted, reaching for it. He'd already hauled it sufficiently above his head so as to render it impossible for me to reach it. I glared at him.

"I did not say that you were intoxicated, but I don't want you drinking any more than this." He banished the glass to a nearby table so that Mrs. Weasley and the hired caterers could gather it up with the others.

"Fine. Then I guess I'll have some more cake instead." I grabbed his cloak off the back of his chair, finding the evening air growing chilly on my exposed skin. His eyes lingered on my bare shoulders until I'd slipped it on, his gaze eventually working its way up to my face. After a year, it didn't require much for each of us to identify subtle shifts in the other's mood. Immediately I no longer felt the need for a second piece of cake.

"I'm ready to go," I told him neutrally. "I already told Harry and Ron I'd be leaving before they do, so we can go whenever you're ready."

He didn't require a second hint, bless his perception. Placing a hand at my waist, he guided me from my chair, and we headed quickly for the living room in order to gather my purse. Having accomplished that, we managed to sneak out of the house by way of the front door, carefully avoiding a confrontation with Mrs. Weasley and the other women loitering in the kitchen. A run-in with her would have resulted in an additional two hours of exchanging pleasantries.

If the exit from The Burrow was done with mildly increasing haste, the walk from the gates of Hogwarts to Severus' quarters was positively miserable. He thoughtfully kept along with my slower pace, but the warmth of him nearby stirred me to instant awareness. Ducking through the corridors and narrowly evading Peeves' notice, we finally arrived at his rooms. The moment the door shut, we abandoned the charade of detachment.

The straps of my dress had been removed from my shoulders before I'd registered any movement on his part. I clutched at his shirt as he kissed me, running the warm skin of his lips along my jawline and down to the hollow of my collarbone. Moaning, I sought frantically through my distraction to unbutton and remove his shirt, absurdly pleased when I finally parted the material and could place my palms flat against his chest.

He pressed me up against the door, gently but insistently, lifting the hem of my dress and beginning to skate his fingers with ghostly lightness along my inner thigh. His entire form seemed to recklessly radiate heat, passing from the delicious skin of his chest into my body. I gasped into his mouth as he kissed me, eliciting a groan from him in reply. He ran his other hand along the small of my back and along the curve of my rear, pulling me even closer.

"Severus," I managed to get out between panting breaths. "Bedroom."

With obvious reluctance, we made our way to the bedroom, though how we managed the feat while caressing and kissing each other all the while, I haven't the vaguest idea. We'd grown rather adept at such maneuvers over the past year, but with the added obstacle of my mother's mountain of presents, it was a challenge indeed. I looked up from kissing his throat when we reached the bedroom, and somehow I had the presence of mind to kick shut the door before we landed in a tangle on the bed.

Feeling emboldened by three glasses of champagne, I shoved him playfully onto his back and began to kiss him intensely, parting his lips with a light nip. He ran his tongue across my teeth, and I moaned again, allowing my fingers to dance a path down his ribcage until I had reached the waistband of his trousers. I dipped one finger slowly beneath it and began to trace a path across his flat stomach. His hips flexed instinctively against me, the movement delivering a reciprocal rush of heat directly to my lower body. He murmured an impatient charm to remove my clothing altogether.

I was relieved to find that I did not feel at all self-conscious poised above him, likely a result of the alcohol. I wasted no time in employing the same charm to effortlessly remove his trousers. I ran my lips and tongue slowly down his chest, reveling in the hard planes of muscle and the way he quivered beneath my touch as my tongue skirted his nipples.

"Hermione..." His protests ended in a strangled groan when I grazed my fingernails along his thighs and took him gently in my mouth. He groaned again, the vibrations seeming to pass from his muscles into my hands as I continued to stroke him. I breathed hotly, heavily, on the flesh, and looked up through increasingly blurred vision at the unbearably erotic sight he presented. His eyes were closed in an exquisite combination of pleasure and torture, the wonderfully masculine profile of his shoulders and torso highlighted by the soft candlelight from the bed-table.

"Stop," he gasped a short time later, tangling his fingers in the depths of my hair. After another moment I obeyed, stalking my way slowly and deliberately up his prone body. My breasts brushed unintentionally against the light dusting of hairs on his chest, and we both shivered at the sudden, rough contact.

He captured my lips and kissed me so forcefully that my forearms grew weak. As his lips continued their tantalizing progress along my jaw to my earlobe, he rolled me onto my side. I gave no protest, snuggling into the heat of him as he traced the curves of my back and waist, his long fingers lingering in appreciation over the fall of my breasts and the outward curve of my hips. The glowing, appreciative fire in his eyes still had the power to capture my breath, even after all the times we'd been together. His worshipful gaze was more praise than I'd ever deserved.

He dipped two slender fingers between my legs while continuing to course his other hand through my hair, the pads of his fingers pushing softly but insistently through the tangles. I urged him on, tugging at his upper arms while throwing my right leg over his waist. The feeling of his skin against mine as he positioned himself atop me, snugly fitting into my hips, was unbearable.

"Please," I gasped, tightening my grip around his waist, but it fell upon deaf ears. He was intent on returning my attentions, his fingers circling a dizzying rhythm where I needed it most. He brought me cruelly close to my climax, but his fingers suddenly departed. I let out a high, keening wail that I hardly recognized as my own voice as he thrust inside me, burying his face in the curve of my shoulder.

He groaned and stilled, the rapid rise and fall of his chest alerting me to his own extreme arousal. After a long, languorous moment he resumed moving slowly, steadily, his kisses igniting more of a reaction than the gradual movement of his hips.

"Harder," I begged him, the friction between our swollen lips becoming too heady to handle. "Please...harder...faster..."

He obliged as I continued to plead shamelessly. I lost myself in the unconscious rhythm of our movements, tilting my hips up to meet his every thrust. We became too frenzied to continue kissing, and I wrapped my arms frantically around his slick back, needing something to ground myself. I couldn't keep my eyes open; I was mesmerized by the indescribable feeling of his movements reaching so deeply into me.

Eventually I could hold back no longer, and I came with a tortured scream, feeling him respond in kind. His entire body grew taut and rigid in my arms, and through the haze of my emotion I stole a moment to indulge in my guiltiest pleasure...the sight of his beautiful face as he groaned my name, all his miseries and preoccupations forgotten as he lost himself in the sensation of being stroked by my body. He collapsed with an almost graceful movement to his forearms, his breath hot and ragged in my ear.

I murmured soft words to him, running my hands along his back, not truly aware of what I was saying or why. We wrapped our arms around each other, shifting to our sides as he began kissing me anew. I was reluctant to allow our bodies to part.

He opened his eyes, the latent hunger still clearly visible in their depths. He stroked a finger along my jawline, tracing my lips. Every time he touched me, it was with the same silent reverence that seemed to mark every occasion for us.

I snuggled closer, relishing the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as we drifted to sleep. Images flitted through my mind: all our conversations, late evenings engrossed in passionate discussion; the first time we'd made love, his overwhelming concern almost heartrending in its compassion; Ginny's delighted face when I'd assured her with a tearful smile that he accepted me, all of me, and we had achieved a level of trust and mutual understanding that even I had never envisioned was possible. It never ceased to amaze me that despite our whirlwind year together, I couldn't seem to overcome my addiction to the feeling of him. I didn't think I ever would.

*********************************************************

Author's Note:

Whew. Well, that's it the end of it. I really, truly hope everybody enjoyed it. I agonized at considerable length over this scene, as it is the first extended explicit sexual content I've written. I'm hoping that after so much miserable waiting on Hermione's part, everyone is satisfied by the conclusion. :)

I cannot possibly say enough to everyone who has reviewed in order to accurately express my gratitude. I am anything but an experienced writer, and you have my deepest respect and thanks for sticking with me and being so overwhelmingly kind in your responses. I love to write...I revel in it, whether it's the work of fantasy, as this is, or something as mundane as a school assignment...but this has been another experience entirely.

Please understand that I gave long and intense consideration to the logical point at which to conclude the story, and I believe this to be it. I wanted to express the depth of their passion and dedication to one another, but I feel that if I attempted to continue beyond this point, my writing would become stale and redundant. I already wonder if I've carried it too far beyond my original outline, but I hope that you've enjoyed what I've opted to do. Thank you all so much!