Chapter 4

"Please, Hermione. I don't want you speaking to him." Despite the sincerity in his plea, Severus the elder struggled to suppress the authority that was finding its way into his voice.

Snape the younger snorted and dared to continue eavesdropping on their never-ending argument. Placing his tumbler on the end table, he slowly rose from his seat to answer the harpy's...Hermione's summons.

He shook his head, tugging furiously on his ears. It would be days before the high-pitched ringing went away.

Severus edged himself into the hallway with very mixed emotions about confronting the married couple. Maybe if he could get her alone... Merlin help me if my future wife is nothing but a shrew... although taming her might lead to a bit of fun. Severus pressed his ear against Hermione's door before knocking.

"I feel...I feel betrayed. So don't think you can forbid me this...ENTER!"

Sneer properly prepared, Severus threw open the door. Instead of stepping into the room, he crossed his arms, tilting his head forward to cover the majority of his face with his hair and leaned impassively against the doorframe. "Hello, Hermione," he droned. "My, you certainly seem to be feeling a bit more... energetic."

"No thanks to you. And I shall be addressed as Mrs. Snape," the woman countered immediately.

Severus scowled. He truly did regret the...accident...he had caused. He didn't know this woman well enough to wish her harm. Typically one to be quick with a snide remark, he remained silent. She was sitting up in bed, and the bandages around her curly head had been removed. Not only did Severus use this opportunity to inspect her from head to toe, he shook his hair out of his face so she could watch him do it.

Instantaneously, he identified the type of woman this Hermione was. She was unacquainted with the art of suppressing one's emotions. She didn't really want to really look at him, but curiosity was getting the better of her.

Severus quirked a knowing eyebrow and smirked when her cheeks burned red.

Interesting. Quickly glancing at the silent, fuming older man at her side, Severus returned his full, penetrating attention to the witch. "I take it we're not on a first name basis, then?"

"Obviously not. We are complete strangers. Now, if you are to be a guest in our home, I would appreciate it if you'd heed our warnings and restrictions."

Lip curling, Severus looked past the woman. "Do you always let your wife speak for you?"

Of all the things said that could alter such a grave expression, the old man's sudden smirk was unbearably puzzling to Severus.

"History has shown that my wife does tend to be the more levelheaded between the two of us. But I'm not surprised such a thing in a woman would threaten you."

"Oh, for goodness sake, I'm not going to tolerate this for...how long is he to be here?" Hermione asked her husband.

"I don't... know. A month at the most," he reluctantly admitted.

"Oh, just perfect!"

"I'm still waiting, you know?" Hermione abruptly challenged the young man, ignoring his outburst.

"Waiting for what?"

"Your apology!"

Severus glared at the woman through narrowed eyes. His silence was his answer. Regardless of the fact that she'd been delirious from pain, sleep and medication, Severus told himself that he'd already apologized and wasn't going to do it again. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Mrs. Snape?"

"Fine," she snapped.

"While the cot your husband had prepared in anticipation of my arrival is touching... instead of the basement, might I use one of your numerous supply of extra bedrooms? As much as I enjoy a well stocked potion's lab, the idea of sleeping in one has little to no appeal."

Aghast, Hermione turned to her husband. "You made him sleep in the basement?"

"Certainly."

The woman sighed before reluctantly turning to the wizard in the doorway. "Of course you may use one of the spare bedrooms..."

"The last one at the end of the hall," Snape the elder snarled in clarification.

The bedroom furthest from theirs. The young man smirked at the insinuation.

"We have our own bathroom here," Hermione continued warily, "so the one across from your room will also be yours. And perhaps I can persuade my husband to lend you his old robes? You both appear to be the same size."

"Do we?" Severus asked with a smirk.

But Hermione failed to rise to his bait. Two hands entwined above the covers. Frowning, Severus watched as the young woman quickly turned to his older self, who had slid a reassuring palm into her own. After whispering a few words into her ear, the woman closed her eyes and dropped her head onto the older wizard's shoulder.

"Might I ask something else... Mrs. Snape?"

Hermione reluctantly turned to face him.

"What was your maiden name?"

"OUT!"

Taken aback by Snape senior's demand, Severus faltered at the sight of the wizard dashing around the bed in his direction.

"I know what you're getting at, you twisted... get out now!"

Stumbling backwards out of the room, Severus met Hermione's confused expression seconds before the door slammed into his face.

Not until he recognized that a Silencing Ward had been placed upon the door did Severus finally turn in search of his new room.

He growled, feeling far from satisfied.

"What in heaven's name was that?" Hermione asked her husband. His back was still facing her. Hands braced against the door, Severus fought to control his breathing.

"The boy asks an obscene amount of questions."

"Severus," Hermione tsked, "I'm not naive. I have used a Time-Turner, which means I'm fully aware of how essential it is to keep as much information from... that man as possible. But my name?"

Finally pushing himself from the door, Severus returned to his wife's side. "It's not so much your name he wants to know but its history. 'Granger' has no foundations in pure-blooded society."

Hermione spoke tentatively to mask her growing hurt. "Despite the prejudices inflicted upon you in Slytherin house, I thought you said you ultimately never believed in such things."

"I didn't... He doesn't." Snape was reluctant to elaborate. "The idea of ever entering into a friendship...relationship with a Muggle-born was beyond consideration. Even a harmless shag was unthought of. And because of all this and his...our common history, I am quite certain Junior is hoping your maiden name is Muggle. "

"This is about Lily, isn't it?"

"Partly. As much as I do not want you to become acquainted with him...the man I used to be...I think it's imperative for you to understand more." Severus leaned forward in his seat. Clearing his throat, he reached for Hermione's closest hand and pulled it into his lap. "Despite my mother's own choices, she forbid me to associate with Muggles and Muggle-borns. She hated Lily, which of course made the girl even more enticing." Severus quickly glimpsed at his wife. "I'm...I shouldn't speak of her like that to you."

Hermione gifted him with a tight smile. "It's fine, really. Continue."

"That's all there is to it, I'm afraid. It was a grudging friendship. We were the only witch and wizard on our block and had no other magical family to associate with. Being in two different houses made our school years volatile, but every summer it was best...easiest to pretend our squabbles never took place. She was just as alone as I was, which I knew and took advantage of. I reveled in the fact that I had the upper hand, teaching her about the magical world, preparing her for Hogwarts, then finally being placed in the better house..."

Hermione sat up straighter. "You thought yourself superior to her."

"And I reminded her of it every chance I got. Until one day, she finally saw me for what I was. By the time I finally appreciated her friendship for what it could have been, she was already..." The implication was there, so Severus didn't finish that sentence.

Leaning against the pillows, Hermione didn't think better of dramatically clutching a hand to her chest. "That is the most... It's so sad."

Severus' eyes flashed knowingly. "He's not a house-elf, Hermione. It took some time... but I got over it."

She nodded blankly, suddenly distracted. Comprehension drawing together in her expression, Hermione turned to her husband and gifted him an evocative smile. "It does explain some of your actions though. You've never treated me like that," Hermione quickly reassured him in response to his wounded glare. "But yes... it explains quite a bit."

Hermione tugged her hand free of his and placed it on his knee. Slowly messaging up his inner thigh, she teased him before ultimately stroking his growing hardness.

"If you remember, my dear," Severus hissed, his eyes blazing, "you were the one to initiate that game."

Kicking the covers away, Hermione began to unbuckle his trousers. "Indeed I did, but you enjoyed it just as much as I... if not more so," she whispered meaningfully, continuing her stroking in earnest. "It appears we've been conditioned as mirror opposites. Whereas you reveled in your superiority... my adolescence was spent drowning in the need to prove I had a rightful place in this world. I remember the first time I saw you in full livery. The idea of the Dark Lord's second in command... a Death Eater... desiring me. Wanting me despite his years of training to judge otherwise..."

With a hiss of frustration, Severus leaned forward, pulling her eager hand out of his trousers. "I don't think we should...you should be resting. It's too soon."

"We'll be careful," she insisted, eyes hazed with lust.

Swallowing, Severus dutifully summoned his Death Eater robes from the bottom of his trunk.

"And the mask," his wife demanded seconds before she flicked her wand and heavy chains restrained her limbs to the bed.

The amorous couple hadn't anticipated the longevity of their coupling. That or they had underestimated the strength of their Silencing Ward.

Either way, Severus the younger had been rudely interrupted in his perusal of the Snape family library by not only high-pitched screams echoing down the stairs but also low, baritone grunts that he really could have done without.

If Severus ever had a sibling and heard him having sex, he'd probably be feeling just as disgusted as he did right then.

Despite his... curiosity... regarding this Hermione woman, Snape wasn't eager to overhear her in the throes of lovemaking.

Unless, of course, he was the wizard forcing those alluring noises from the back of her throat.

A deep, rumbling... manly... groan pierced through the air and ripped that enticingly feminine image from his mind.

Oh, bloody hell... He jammed the book he'd been reading back into the shelf. I refuse to be imposed upon like this if I am to stay in this cursed house a whole blasted month.

By the time the sounds of bedroom furniture began to rhythmically scrape against the wooden floor, Severus was past his limit.

Throwing open the door, Snape leaned into the entrance hall and bellowed towards the ceiling. "FOR THE LOVE OF NIMUE, I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU, YA' KNOW!"

All noises had ceased before his echo died off.

Turning back into the library, just before he slammed the door, Severus could have sworn he detected the faint sound of girlish laughter.

He couldn't prevent the smirk growing on his face.

Severus suddenly startled at the sound of two feminine voices arguing downstairs. The curtains of his four-poster, the heavy duvet restraining him, even his pillow felt foreign to him. He jumped from bed, wand raised until awareness finally settled him.

Day four, he sneered to himself.

"Tis' my duty!" a shrill voice cried wretchedly from afar.

Severus groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Mrs. Snape was arguing with the house-elf... again.

"Please, Mops. I am more than capable of answering the door to my own house."

"Mistress should be resting."

"Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, I'm fully healed from the... accident."

Severus couldn't help frowning at the apparent hesitation in her voice. Accident, indeed.

"Mistress is two years with no Snape babies! Mistress never fill house with Snape babies if Mistress refuse rest after Master Snape plant the cabbage seeds. Too much activity spoil the cabbage roots!"

Severus burst into absurd laughter. What the hell?

"What have I told you about monitoring my ovulation cycle!" Hermione screamed at the house-elf. "NO! No, I'm sorry, Mops! Please, stop hitting yourself... You don't want to ruin Severus' umbrella, do you?"

The doorbell was ringing wildly now.

"LET ME ANSWER THE DOOR, MOPS!"

"GIVE ME SNAPE BABIES!"

Grudgingly submitting to the pile of robes hanging in the wardrobe, Severus dressed himself in his future-self's hand-me-downs. Severus listened to the ridiculousness vibrating throughout the house and couldn't believe the type of life he was doomed to tolerate.

Babies? he sneered to himself.

Although... he wouldn't be adverse to the idea of digging around in Mrs. Snape's cabbage patch. A graceless snort expelled through his nose before he promptly reined in his emotions.

By the time he'd managed the fastenings of each cuff, Severus froze at the sound of a male voice warring with Hermione's.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed with a disappointed shake of her head. "Not again..."

"Ello, love."

"Ugh! You smell like a pub."

"Well... I did sleep in one last night, so..." He threw his hands in the air dismissively. "Invite me in already, I'm freezing my bollocks off out here!"

"Don't be crass, you know Severus doesn't like it."

"You know Severus doesn't like it," he repeated, his face pinched mockingly.

Hermione stepped back into her house, intent on closing the door in his face.

Ron quickly edged his foot just in time. "All right! Sorry! Didn't mean it... Say, shouldn't you be at work? It's almost midday!"

"Well, if you thought I'd be at work, what are you doing here?"

"I was planning on waiting on the doorstep until you got home."

"Did Lavender throw you out again?"

"Merlin, lower your voice!" Ron warily glanced at the adjacent houses. "Can I please come inside?"

Hermione didn't answer him with words. Hand on her hip, she expelled a reluctant groan and pulled the door open fully.

"Thanks! Hmmm, smells excellent... Mops makes the best fried tomatoes."

Without waiting for a sign of approval, Ron crossed the entrance hall in the direction of the kitchen.

"Sure," Hermione droned at his retreating back. "Help yourself."

Not until Ron had polished off his third plate of scrambled eggs, did he finally take notice of Hermione's humorless glare.

"Ah... thanks for the grub."

Her expression refused to change.

Sighing, Ron finally cut the pathetic jokes and turned his full attention to the woman across from him. "Look, I'm not asking for a place to crash. And no, Lavender didn't kick me out. I just... I can't go back. Not yet..."

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, her voice somber and heavy with insinuation.

Clenching his eyes, Ron slammed his fist on the table. "Why do you always have to...? Look, just don't, all right! I don't need another lecture on growing up. I'm only twenty-one, for fuck's sake! Don't take it out on me just because you threw your youth away to marry a man twice your age."

"Decided to throw my youth away, huh?" Hermione repeated his words through gritted teeth.

"Fuck! No... no, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, okay?"

Hermione had heard more than enough. She brusquely rose from the table. "I think you should leave."

"She's pregnant! And I have absolutely no desire to marry her... just grand, right? There, happy now? Something else for you to lord your superiority over!"

Face red with anger, Hermione wrapped her hand around his bicep, tugging him from his seat. "Quiet! Get up now!"

He rose, whirling around to face her and yanking himself from her hold. "That's all you have to say to me? I just told you Lavender's pregnant, her twenty-second birthday is fast approaching... and you're kicking me out of your house?"

"Oh, excuse me. What I must have meant was... Get the hell out of my house and face your own damn responsibilities! I'm done cleaning up your messes, you know that!"

"This is your fault, you know!"

Hermione was appalled. "My fault? How'd you manage that?"

"If you'd just married me when I asked you to, we'd both be happy right now!"

Ron cried in fright at the sight of Hermione's wand whipping from her pocket. Before he knew what happened, his limbs were bound and his mouth was clamped shut.

"For the last time, Ronald Weasley... I am happy. I love Severus more than I am capable of verbally expressing. And I am sick if your childish tantrums. Until you learn how to act like an adult, you are forbidden from entering my house again. The moment I release you I want you keep your mouth closed for once and silently walk straight out the front door without another word, do you hear me?"

"I hear you," a smooth voice purred from the doorway. "And I will ensure what you request takes place."

Shoulders hunching, Hermione cursed under her breath. She didn't bother turning in the direction of the voice to decipher its owner. Ron's widened eyes were telling enough.

In a flash, her husband's former-self was at her side. His arm extended sardonically in Ron's direction before he introduced himself. "Tobias Prince, cousin-in-law to the glorious duelist who's currently holding you captive. Do be sure you heed her instructions once you're released, or I will be forced to use more...corporeal...means in ensuring your removal from Snape house."

Ron rubbed his arms sullenly once the binds melted away. He gazed at Severus for a moment before opening his mouth.

Severus promptly shushed the redhead. "Ah, do remember Mrs. Snape's warning. And to answer your unspoken question, yes, I am aware of my uncanny resemblance to Severus Snape. Now, if you don't mind?" Severus pointed in the direction of the entrance hall.

When Hermione made a move to follow them, he intercepted her. "No need. Stay here, I'll take care of this."

Once Ron had been thoroughly escorted from her house, Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table, a formidable glare plastered across her face once again.

Severus sneered at the sight. "No need to thank me," he said sarcastically upon his silent return to the kitchen.

"I wasn't planning to."

"Right. Because you handled that marvelously all on your own."

"That," Hermione barked, jumping from her seat, "wasn't any of your business. And you know no one from this reality can see you. Why would you expose yourself so carelessly?"

"You needed assistance, first of all. And once more, it was not only obvious that the man was still heavily intoxicated, but even sober, I doubt him to be the quickest broom on the Quidditch pitch."

"Do not," Hermione's words came out quiet and slow, "do that again."

Severus ignored her reprimand. He couldn't help but admire the sight before him. Hermione's words to the house-elf this morning appeared accurate. She did look better. Much better. The swelling in her face had completely gone down, and Severus was pleased to note that the woman didn't favor the use of cosmetics.

"Your husband doesn't want you alone with that man, does he?"

"My husband has complete trust in me."

"My, my, Mrs. Snape. You just gave me an answer to a question I did not ask."

"Do not play games with me, Junior. Believe it or not, I am trying to be kind to you."

"Do not call me that. That man is not my father."

"That man is the only Severus Snape I am willing to acknowledge. You are not Severus. You are not Snape. You are not Mr. Snape. Since I am more than unwilling to address you as such, 'Junior' is the only option."

Severus quickly crossed the kitchen before she was able to reach the door. He blocked the doorway, looming over Hermione with a wild glint in his eye. "You asked me to address you as 'Mrs. Snape.' "

"And?" Hermione's attempt as impassivity was crumbling. When he'd insinuated himself in the doorway, she was reluctant to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch away. Individually, they both were aware of each other's body heat.

"And you are not my wife... technically, at least."

She didn't say a word.

"I can see it."

"See what?" she snapped impatiently.

"Your appeal," Severus licentiously dragged his eyes across her body. With his face very close to hers, Hermione flushed as his breath followed the direction of his eyes, trailing down her face. "You're a very... feisty... witch, Mrs. Snape. No doubt inside the bedroom as much as out."

Hermione finally pushed past him. "Don't be disgusting."

"I'll tell you what's disgusting," Severus barked behind her, following her into the entrance hall. "Hearing two complete strangers shagging each other's brains out is pretty damn disgusting."

Hermione froze. Slowly turning around, she shocked the hell out of him by smiling.

"Is it now?" Hermione couldn't help smirking derisively as she stepped closer. "Well... in the future I'll try to shield your fragile sensibilities." Unable to gauge his expression, she leaned forward and gently pushed the hair away from his face. Unaware of what she was truly doing, Hermione lost herself in the movement, grinding a lank strand between her index finger and thumb. Her face was curious yet deliberate, as if he was no more than an interesting potions ingredient.

She was comparing his hair to her husbands'.

Severus suddenly felt unbearably hot and uncomfortable. When a foreign rush filled his head, he silently turned from Hermione's enticing smirk and cocked brow.

It wasn't until Snape was alone that it suddenly dawned on him that the woman had made him blush.