XI

This is based on the Surrogate Mother Challenge on WIKTT. For full description of this challenge, please see the author's notes at the end of the first chapter.

Disclaimer:I looked in the mirror this morning and was stunned to discover that I am not JK Rowling. Shocking, I know.

Special thanks to my beta, Southern_Witch_69. Her input is invaluable to me. I don't know what I'd do without her.

Severus took long, silent strides down the deserted hallway. Since the rest of the student body returned, he was back to making his ritualistic tour through the school. He was begrudged to admit it, but he was actually grateful for the return of students...it gave him fresh fodder during his evening jaunts.

The students that had stayed over for the Yuletide were much too well behaved to satisfy his building desire to torment and terrorize. He had been left with nothing to occupy his time but grading essays and stocking a few supplies for the infirmary. Severus had been looking for anything constructive to take his frustrations out on. Since the visit to St. Mungo's, he had felt almost lost. He stopped in a small, hidden alcove and leant against the wall in the protective blackness and recalled events from the last two weeks.

On the morning of Boxing Day, St. Mungo's had sent him a letter to inform him that Minerva had passed away in her sleep the previous evening. She'd had no surviving relatives and had named Severus as her next of kin some time prior. The memory was vivid.

The letter appeared on the table with his breakfast, so he had assumed that it had just arrived in the Great Hall. When Hermione saw the scroll's waxed seal...a wand and bone, crossed...it was obvious that she knew what it was concerning. Under the young woman's scrutiny, he quickly read the letter. He placed the scroll gently on the breakfast table and confirmed her suspicions. "She died peacefully in her sleep last night." He casually went back to drinking his coffee and pretending to read the Daily Prophet. His feigned interest in the tabloid faltered when he heard soft sniffles coming from across the small table.

Severus' breath hitched, but he remained stock-still, keeping his hands rigidly at his sides. He had the uncharacteristic desire to comfort the witch, but he did not know how to do that. He sighed heavily as she continued to cry whilst voicing unintelligible words into the black fabric of his frock coat. He slowly brought his arms up to rest loosely around her back. She obviously took this as a positive sign for in the next moment he felt her squeeze him more firmly. Soon, he found himself with a hand running its way soothingly down her hair, holding her nearly as tightly as she clung to him.

Severus had held her for undeterminable length of time. The only thing he was thankful for was that he had refrained from stooping to the point of whispering soft words of comfort into her ear. At least you haven't turned into a total sap, he reassured himself. He felt the welling desire to blast the nearest tapestry and watch the small strands of fabric float silently to the ground.

Six days following Christmas, he'd had the pleasure of attending Minerva's memorial service. The service had taken place during the morning in Firenze's classroom, as it was too cold to do a graveside service. Severus had stood silently out of the way and watched as Hermione and her friends supported and comforted one another. He'd felt a small pang of regret that he was not a part of it. Not that he had any desire to be comforted by Longbottom or the Weasleys, but it had felt right to hold Hermione the day they received the notice. It was because of this that he'd watched with no small amount of envy whilst Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley stood on either side of the young witch, each with a protective arm around her.

Following the service, there had been a small gathering. Hermione had approached Severus and asked if he minded if she went back to Grimmauld Place with Miss Weasley and her brother. Apparently, they'd planned a get together to acknowledge the New Year. Severus had relented even though initially he'd not wished to allow it. It wasn't as if she was going to a party. The small group of friends was planning nothing more than sitting around and nattering for the evening. Hermione had beamed at him when he'd consented. In what he was quite certain was a moment of idiocy, she had, at that moment, invited him to join her. He had, of course, declined the invitation, choosing instead to spend the evening in what he was sure would be blissful solitude.

It had been anything but. New Year's Eve had been a night of complete and utter loneliness. What has happened to me? Severus was a man that had spent well over twenty years immersed in solitude. That same man had spent the last few months growing accustomed to living with a bright, young, beautiful witch. The results had left him unable to function without her.

He stood himself back upright and began stalking the dark halls once again. It was nothing more than a vain attempt to quell the stirring sensations that were now emerging somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. He turned the next corner and heard some soft moans coming from a nearby abandoned classroom. He approached the door and silently entered the room. Bloody hormonal teenagers, he thought with disgust. Sure enough, the soft glow of his wand revealed two seventh years in the midst of divesting their clothing.

Severus felt better when he was able to rob both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff from one hundred combined points. He involuntarily shuddered as he neared the completion of his nightly circuit. The sight of lust-ridden teens was an image that most anyone would desire to eliminate from their memory.

He entered his quarters to find Hermione emerging from her room whilst pulling a dressing gown over her nightdress. He found himself gawking at her. For a nightgown, it was rather revealing...silken, burgundy fabric hugged her arms, accentuated her breasts, and flowed to just above her knees, leaving ample room for her ever expanding waist. The image before him immediately caused him to remember another incident, in the very same room, when the young witch had dropped her towel to the floor. More alluring images replaced that memory to include her now exquisite and gravid figure. A slight smirk threatened to emerge on his face. "What are you still doing up?" he finally managed to ask. He was in the midst of trying to dispel the images that his mind was bringing forth and seeing so much of her before she managed to pull on the dressing gown on completely. Obviously, she had not been expecting him to enter when he did.

He was jostled from his musings by an insistent voice. "Severus, are you even listening to me?"

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and placed his attentions to her...well, to what she was saying anyway. "What was that, Hermione?" he asked.

"I said I was on my way to the kitchens to get something to eat," she answered in what sounded like near exasperated tones. "I can't sleep."

"Why would you wander off to the kitchens? Just summon a house-elf. They will bring you a suitable snack."

"No, they will bring me whatever they deem to be suitable, thanks to your meddling no doubt! If I actually go to the kitchens, I at least have half a chance of getting what I want."

"You do not need to be padding off down the hallways at this hour of the night, Hermione. What is it that you so desperately need to have?" He became slightly intrigued when she would no longer meet his gaze and mumbled her answer. The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

He quirked a questioning eyebrow at her when she had once again met his gaze and Hermione sighed. "I said that I would like a bit of laverbread, a small Jaffa cake, and a cup of sliced gherkins."

"With what else?" It took all of his control to prevent himself from vomiting at her choice of foods.

She looked at him curiously. "With nothing else...just that. Why?"

"Are you planning on eating that all together?" he asked her in a clearly disgusted tone. Oh, that is just repulsive, he thought.

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and mimicked his quirked eyebrow. "Do you really want the answer to that question?"

"No, I do not." Hermione began to walk towards the door exiting their quarters, and he stopped her. "You stay here. I will see what the house-elves can do for you."

It was obvious that she wondered about the motives behind his gesture, but she simply nodded in acceptance as he swept out of the room. During his journey towards the kitchens, his dear friend's words began echoing in his head, as they had done many times over the last couple of weeks. She truly is a remarkable young woman, Severus. Do not deny yourself the possibilities that she holds. Not for the first time, he found himself pondering exactly what those possibilities included...even if her current food tastes were questionable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During the first weeks of January, Hermione pondered Minerva's last words to her. She missed the elderly woman terribly. The most upsetting part being that she had not seen the older witch since Voldemort's downfall, and now, when she finally had the chance to reconnect with her, Minerva was taken away permanently. Hermione had loved the legend of the butterfly that she'd been told of by her mentor and had whispered her desires to the jade trinket on more than one occasion. Each time the wishes grew. First, it was simply to be allowed to see and hold her daughter after she was born. Next, she wished that Severus might change his mind and allow her to be a part of her child's life. After that, she supplicated having a more than amicable relationship with the surly man. Minerva McGonagall's parting words had reverberated through Hermione's mind. He now sees this child as his redemption, and I think that you may be his redemption as well.

By the third week in January, Hermione was not sure what to make of the man. Her evenings and time with Professor Snape had remained fairly uneventful. Although, she was becoming more and more uncertain as to what it was he was thinking. There were times when he was in his typical cross mood, but at other times, he was calm and accommodating. There were even times when one might say that he was being nice. That included the night that he traveled to the kitchens for her to obtain her odd request of foods; however, he had refused to watch her eat any of the delectable treats that he had acquired for her.

Then, there had been the past Saturday afternoon when she had happened upon him. Hermione had spied him sitting on a stool at one of the lab tables in the Potions classroom, slightly hunched over the desk. The small box of wood carving tools was sitting on the tabletop next to him, a long plank of smooth, dark wood stood in front of him, and an instruction book was levitating at eye level. Hermione had watched silently for nearly an hour, as the man before her had attempted to carve intricate design on the wielding canvas. Each time he'd used meticulous precision and care, and if he made a mistake, then he would wave his wand over that part of the wood and start again. My dad would've loved to have had that trick, Hermione mused.

During the midday meal, Hermione sat in solitude at the Head Table picking at the remains of her meal. A Post Owl swooped down, interrupting her introspection, and presented her with a small package wrapped in brown paper. She smiled at the package labeled on with her name. She had not received any gifts since Christmas and found herself milling over Professor McGonagall's words that the gifts were not from Severus. She tucked the package into the pocket in her robes and continued with her meal. As soon as it was feasible for her to leave, she excused herself and made her way swiftly down to the dungeons. She did not notice that she was being followed.

Hermione entered the suite of rooms and sat in a chair by the fire. She withdrew the package, and with a grin, she quickly began to open it. Inside, she found a small crystal bottle, and in gold etching, it was labeled with the word Hermione. She began to open the bottle when a flurry of black robes entered the corner of her vision. Before she could acknowledge his presence, his hand swept down and grabbed the bottle from her hands. "What are you doing?" she asked without even trying to hide her frustration.

"Hermione, you know better than to open bottles of unknown substances and smell them," he spat. "Especially in your condition."

She rolled her eyes, though she knew that he likely had a point. She crossed her arms and leaned back into the chair. She looked up at the man looming over her. His ever-present mask was firmly in place, but she thought she saw a glimmer of something flash behind his eyes. "So, the gifts really aren't from you?" she asked after a few minutes. "Never mind," she bit out. "Stupid question." Severus scoffed. After a pregnant pause, Hermione prodded him. "Aren't you going to open it and finish your obsessive scrutiny? I would like to have that back."

A scowl appeared on his face and grew as he opened the bottle and brought it to his nose. After several whiffs, the scowl deepened as he put the cap back on and thrust it back at her.

"I take it that you found nothing wrong with it," Hermione asked in sassy tones.

"Obviously," he quipped. "You mentioned other gifts, Hermione. Exactly how many others?"

"Only three others," she saw a glimmer of emotion streak across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Interpreting the expression, she continued. "There was nothing wrong with the gifts, Severus. Don't worry."

"I am not worried," he spat. "Just show some common sense before you open anymore anonymous packages."

She had to concede that the miserable wanker was right. Hermione felt duly chastised. "Of course."

With his characteristic swirl of billowing robes, Severus left her as swiftly as he had arrived. She opened the bottle and smelled the contents. It was perfume. That much was clear immediately. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the aromas that were impaling her senses. Jasmine and rose were clearly evident...what else is there?. She sniffed again, detecting jonquil, rosemary, and neroli. The combination of scents was intoxicating and nearly peaceful. They blended together exquisitely. Whoever it was that put this together and created the Hermione perfume knew what they were doing. She began thinking about each of the gifts, contemplating each in turn, and trying to decipher exactly who her mysterious admirer could be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus began storming off to the greenhouses. He knew exactly where to find Professor Longbottom. The whelp did not even have the guts to show up for lunch today in the Great Hall. Halfway on his trek, he came to his senses, realizing that he, in his current state of mind, would come off as nothing more than a jealous lover. Which, of course, he most emphatically was not!

He had to admit that it did take quite a bit of ingenuity for the miserable little tosser to create a signature perfume for someone he was mooning over. Why didn't I notice his infatuation before? he wondered. It had not been enough to realize that it was a delicately blended perfume...one that only a skilled Potions master or Herbology master could create...but Severus had rapidly been able to decipher the main scents used. He knew that Longbottom was no fool, and not only had he chosen scents that complimented and blended with one another, but each flower professed an adamant declaration of beauty, affection, and desire.

It was the jonquil that had upset him the most. It tells of desire, but it also asks the recipient if they will return the affection. He let out an audible growl in frustration, blood boiling beneath the surface. Severus would have to think more on this and determine the best course of action.

Realization dawned on him suddenly. Bloody hell! I don't even know what it is that I want! He decided that solving that particular riddle needed to be a top priority.

He turned around and noticed two first years were standing on the step preparing to ascend the stairs back into the castle...standing and gawking at him. "Five points apiece for loitering!" he snapped. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get moving!" he bellowed. The frightened Hufflepuffs scurried like mice into the castle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly two weeks later, Hermione was still trying to decipher Severus' behavior. He had been moodier lately, lashing out unnecessarily at anyone who crossed his path, including her. He had also become very withdrawn. She had been set to meet with Neville the week before. Severus had come up to her five minutes before her meeting to inform her that her appointment with Poppy had been changed, and she needed to head to the infirmary posthaste. Poppy had verified Severus' claim, but Hermione had the vague impression that the elder witch was withholding information from her.

So, she changed her meeting with Neville to the following Saturday evening. Hermione had deduced that it was Neville that Severus was upset with. He glared at him during meals, and he did his best to intimidate the younger man at every turn. Hermione had been impressed that her friend did not appear to be cowing down at the domineering man's every move. As a result of this, Hermione decided not to inform the fractious and dour man of her plans until she was grabbing her cloak and heading out the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" snarled Severus.

"I'm going to go meet Neville," she replied without even looking at him. There was really no point. The man had done the equivalent of ignoring her for nearly a fortnight. She pulled her cloak around her to protect her from the biting cold of the first days of February.

"That still does not answer my question, Hermione. Where are you going?" he bit back.

"I am meeting Neville upstairs, and we are walking into Hogsmeade."

"Why is now the first that I have heard of this?"

Hermione looked up from buttoning her cloak and met his gaze. Ensuring that she inflicted the appropriate amount of malice in her tone, she answered him. "Because, Severus, I figured you would pull the same shite that you did last time I had a meeting scheduled with Neville and change my plans for me." For a brief moment, Hermione thought that she saw a shadow of surprise grace his features as he stood from his chair. It was replaced by his typical stony mask, just as quickly as it had appeared.

"So you intend to go traipsing all through Hogsmeade this evening because you are angry with me?"

"Damn you! No! We are going to the Three Broomsticks for a bite to eat. That's all. What is your problem anyway?" she asked searching his face for more clues. "You sound like..."

"I sound like what?" he asked. His icy glare was fixed directly into her eyes.

"Never mind," she mumbled as she grabbed her gloves and scarf. She quickly exited the room before he could express his opinions any more than he already had. Fuming, she stormed up to the entrance hall to greet her friend. All the while she pondered the ever changing enigma named Severus Snape.

She smiled warmly at the face that greeted her. Neville was not handsome, but he was pleasant and even through all of the horrible ordeals of his life, his eyes still shone with nothing less than innocence and joy. Willing herself to calm down and enjoy her evening, Hermione put her current puzzle behind her.

In hindsight, she could understand Severus' temper with her. This is the first time that she had ever actually attempted to deceive him. She always asked him before she went anywhere outside of the castle. Bloody hell, with most everything that she did inside of the castle, she sought his permission. It's only because of the sense of duty I seem to feel for him regarding our baby, she assured herself. Lately, however, she felt as if he was treating her more like his property. She wanted the opportunity to actually do something that she chose rather than sit around idly and watch him brood.

Neville grinned and extended his arm to her. Hermione hesitated slightly as her stomach began to churn. She suddenly realized that all of this was beginning to feel like...like a real date. Hermione had the sudden urge to hide her face in her hands and run back down to the dungeons. The only thing holding her back was the man currently occupying the domain. She had no desire to face him so soon after their little row.

She hid her shock and took her companion's arm, very grateful when he led the way out of the castle into the dark night. It gave her a chance to think about what she should say or do. Neville obviously didn't think anything unusual about her silence. The roiling in her stomach did not decrease, and she soon began to feel like she was...Oh God! I feel like I'm cheating! Hermione tried to discreetly hold a hand to her mouth and prayed that the wave of nausea that was ready to overtake her would dissipate as quickly as it had started.

"Hermione, are you all right?" asked Neville.

She realized then that they had stopped walking. She looked at him, that sweetness beaming right back at her. Hermione took several deeps breaths. When she was certain that the tea and crumpets she'd had earlier would remain within the confines of her stomach, she removed her hand from her mouth and nodded at her friend. "I'm sorry, Neville. Sometimes it just overtakes me for no reason." She offered him a smile when she shrugged innocently and added, "Ruddy hormones."

He grinned at her remark while steadfastly holding onto a look of marked concern when he asked, "Are you sure you're up to this? We can go back." He looked down as his cheeks flushed. "It's just supper at the Three Broomsticks."

Is he really embarrassed about where we are having supper? she wondered. "I am really fine; trust me. I think I could really use some pub food. I've been craving some of the greasiest food, and there is nowhere else that I can get any good cherry syrup and soda." She hoped that this would please him. Though she had no romantic inclinations towards her friend, that didn't mean that she wanted to ruin her one evening out and quash his hopes in one stride. She only hoped that she could let him down easy without any messy or uncomfortable situations. Unfortunately, God did not listen to her pleas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I cannot believe that she left! How could she leave like that? So eager to run off with Longbottom? Playing me like a fool!

As Severus paced his sitting room, his anger grew. He was half tempted to pull out a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. However, he was out of Hangover Potion, and it took too long to brew. Besides, he wanted to see the look on the witch's face when she returned from her date. The sickening feeling that had developed in the pit of his stomach when she had told him of her plans was not relinquishing its hold. He kicked the foot of her chair and watched as the wood caved, and the corner of the chair hit the floor. Unfortunately, it did not improve his mood. He unsheathed his wand and cast a quick Reparo.

The thing that upset him the most was that she had hidden it from him. She had never done that before. Anytime she did anything, made any plans, she either asked him or told him about it in advance. This was blatantly defiant. Almost what one would expect from a teenager. A small voice inside of his head chided him.

She's not acting like a spoilt child, Severus. Hermione has always been strong-willed and independent. Just because she's been accommodating to your whims these last few months does not mean that it's in her nature. She is likely just trying to let you know that she does not appreciate you controlling every aspect of her life. Back off!

Severus felt as if he was going slightly insane. He had, on occasion, wondered how Minerva or Albus would counsel him. However, having Minerva's Scottish brogue ringing through his ears, whilst chastising him, was quite unsettling. The fact that he knew that the voice was right was even more disconcerting.

He tried to sit and patiently wait her out. He lasted all of five minutes before the caged tiger within had him stalking the small confines of the room once again. Making his decision, he grabbed his cloak near the door and exited the dungeons in a flurry.

Severus made his through the snow-covered ground to Hogsmeade in the same speed as a Death Eater hurrying along to meet the Dark Lord. He had done that more than enough times. There was no point in taking a leisurely stroll to the town.

He arrived at the Three Broomsticks and surveyed the crowded room before he fully entered. It took him only a few moments to spot his prey and discreetly find a nearby table that left him safely back in the shadows.

Severus studied Hermione. He shuddered as he watched her consume grease laden chips, her sandwich, and sip on the red fizzy drink. All of which were a far cry from the comfort food of Hogwarts.

As he first watched her, the jealousy that he had been feeling earlier peaked. He wanted nothing more than to hex Longbottom for even going near her. The longer that he resisted the urge, he began to notice minute details about her demeanor. She was fidgeting, either her hands were moving or her feet...she could not seem to sit still. He observed her playing with the pink umbrella from her drink as she worried her bottom lip. What had initially appeared to be a friendly conversation now looked to be awkward. For a brief moment, Severus considered going over and assisting the annoying chit in a speedy and graceful exit. Common sense told him it was best to hold off, however. She would likely take it as further interference from him and swiftly seek retaliation. The very last thing that Severus wanted to do was to drive Hermione into another man's arms.

He wished that he had some of those contraptions that the Weasley twin's had invented. Extendable Ears, was it? Something like that. With such a contraption, he would have been able to eavesdrop on the conversation. He especially wished for such a device when he saw, even from this distance, that Hermione's eyes had begun to glisten with unshed tears. She began suckling on her bottom lip more fervidly whilst staring intently at the Herbology professor. Within only a few minutes, the young man dropped a few Galleons on the table, stood up, and helped Hermione to her feet before he fastened her cloak for her. Then, Longbottom quickly escorted her out of the pub.

Severus followed with the stealth of a veteran spy. The pair walked slowly back towards the castle, and Severus continued to follow at a safe distance. As the couple disappeared inside the castle, Severus cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and continued on his trek. He sped up his journey as he approached the steps to the dungeons. Even though he did not see which direction they went, he knew that Longbottom was honorable enough to escort Hermione back to her quarters.

As he descended the staircase, he began to hear a soft voice. He continued to move towards them as he tried to find a better vantage point. They were standing outside the entry to his rooms, and Severus watched as Hermione fidgeted with her scarf.

"Hermione, please. You haven't said anything since we left the pub. I just want to know what you are thinking. Do I even stand a chance here?" The tone in Neville's voice was almost pleading. If Severus had not already felt the overwhelming desire to hex the man, he would have felt some pity for him. He was certainly putting himself on the line.

Severus could see the tears reforming in Hermione's eyes. Before she had a chance to speak, Longbottom lowered his head to her and placed his lips to hers. Just as the younger wizard appeared to be attempting to intensify the kiss, Hermione pulled away. Her brown eyes were wide with surprise. It was none too soon, as Severus was ready to hex the bollocks off of the man. "No, Neville." A tear fell from her eye as she spoke. "I'm sorry. I didn't know the gifts were from you. They were all so very sweet." Hermione shook her head. "I don't feel that way about you. I'm so sorry."

The young man looked as if a dragon had traipsed through his prized greenhouses. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he mumbled and left her standing there in the corridor. For Hermione's part, she looked as if she wanted nothing more than to crumble to the floor in a heap, but she managed to speak the password and enter their living quarters.

Severus removed the Disillusionment Charm and went in shortly after her. He entered the room to see Hermione sitting in front of the fire staring at the flames, her face red and damp from tears. He was at a loss for what to say to her. She did not seem to have heard him come in. He had been overjoyed at her dismissal of Longbottom's affections, but it was a short-lived victory as he now saw the distraught woman before him.

"I take it that your evening did not go exactly as you had planned," he spoke in biting tones.

She did not move. She did not even turn around to look at him. "No, it didn't."

He stood, looming over her, waiting for her to speak or even to look at him. She did neither. Finally, he broke the stony silence. "And what, pray tell, is the sniffling about?" he sneered.

Hermione shot a look at him, her eyes burying into him like a dagger. "Drop the smug, arrogant attitude, Professor. I am in no mood to deal with your childish temper tantrums tonight." She turned her attentions back to the fire and ignored him completely.

The anger burning within him again began to overtake him. What on this earth could he have been thinking in regards to this whip of a girl? She did not deserve his friendship or concern. Hell, she barely deserved the privilege of carrying his child for him. True, his first words to her had not been the apology for his earlier behavior like he had intended them to be, but that was no excuse for her nasty retort. "Professor?" he asked her, his voice laden with detest. "Fine, Miss Granger, if that is what you prefer." He turned to walk away from her when he heard a small sniff from her again. He looked down his long nose at her with disdain as he watched her wipe away her tears.

Hermione got to her feet as if to flee the room, but Severus saw a small sway in her stance as it appeared that her legs were about to buckle. He swept upon her and grabbed her before she toppled to the floor. She fell into him and clutched at his robes as if they were the only thing that could sustain her. She mumbled into his robes.

"What did you say?" he asked her as he held her close to him.

"I didn't know," she said as she looked up at him. "How could I be so blind? It was staring me right in the face, and I didn't know."

"It is all right, Hermione," he soothed as his deft fingers began running through her curly mane. "I am sorry for my behavior earlier," he muttered into her hair.

She quizzically looked up at him upon hearing his words. Severus stared down into her mesmerizing brown eyes. He marveled at all of the intricate shades in the brown and gold flecked irises. Her eyes did not leave his, each enraptured by the other's gaze. "I am sorry, too. I was upset. I had no right to say the things I did."

Severus quirked his eyebrow. "Is that all?" he asked.

"No, I shouldn't have lied about my plans this evening. I was frustrated, and after last week, I was certain that you had changed my appointment with Poppy just to keep me from seeing Neville."

Severus neither confirmed nor denied her accusations. However, he was certain that she took his silence as confirmation of his guilt. His eyes narrowed at her whilst she remained tightly ensconced in his arms.

"You can't blame me for wanting something that I can make a decision about," she whinged. "You are just as controlling as you were a few months ago. I still can't take a bath without the ruddy taps turning on and spewing icy water after only fifteen minutes! Do you know how much my body aches, how much my back hurts?"

He still stood staring at her, refusing to respond to her inane rant. She opened her mouth to speak again, and Severus could think of no other way to silence her. His mouth descended upon her rapidly. He crushed his lips onto hers as strong feelings of something akin to desire overcame him. He noted that she did not push him away, so he firmly nipped at her upper lip. She moaned in reply, pulling her arms around him more tightly. He tasted her lips, and as she slowly parted them, he savored the taste of her tongue and her teeth. He wanted to taste of every part of her. He moved his mouth from her succulent lips and traversed kisses across her check and down the side of her neck. Just as he began to suckle on her collarbone, she tensed and seemed to find her voice.

"No, Severus, I'm sorry. I can't do this right now," she said as she gently pushed him back.

Severus stopped to look at her in disbelief. He silently berated himself for exposing himself like that to her, for opening up to allow her the opportunity to humiliate him. He firmly replaced a scowl on his face and stormed out of the room. Her pleas for him to stay and talk to her were given the same regard as his ill-placed affections.

A/N: Oh, I know, so evil. The chapter wasn't supposed to end there, but the story screamed at me to stop. Unfortunately, I was compelled to oblige. What can I say, I learned the noble art of writing evil cliffies from the best...eh, Sun?

Southern's Notes: Grrrr, I say! She was whinging about it feeling like she was cheating on him, and then she won't kiss him thoroughly without immediately voicing why. Sigh. Moving off to my ruddy cliff. Scones, anyone? Tea?

http://www.vietfun.com/flowers/

Jasmine: Grace; Elegance Amiability.

Jonquil: Desire; Love me; Can you return my love?; I desire a return of your affection.

Rose: I Love You; Perfect Happiness; Always; Desire; Friendship; Unity; Warmth of heart; Love at first sight; Joy; Gladness; Please believe me; Passion.

Rosemary: Fidelity; Love; Remembrance; Your Presence Revives Me.

Neroli: Purity

Laverbread is an edible seaweed. Typically it is not eaten by itself. In this story, it was eaten with the Jaffa Cakes.

http://www.laverbread.org/