Where We Move Forward In Time.

'Is life not a hundred times too short for us to stifle ourselves?'

~ Friedrich Nietzsche ~

Hermione

There was a time when I really believed we would never get to this point. Severus was so stubborn, and even now I think he holds a little bit of himself back, just in case Harry does decide to leave him. I know that he won't, because he bought him a bonding ring. This is why Harriet and I are on our way to visit Ron and Luna for the evening. Harry has gone to quite a bit of effort for tonight, and part of me just wishes I could see the look on Severus' face. At least I'll get to say 'I told you so'.

I'm glad my final week at work is over. This baby seems more troublesome than Harriet ever was, keeping me awake at night with heartburn, leg cramps and awkward kicks when I least expect it. I wouldn't be surprised if he's Harry's, but that's something we will never know, unless the physical similarities are really obvious.

'I don't know why we had to come by train.' Harriet is pouting as she stares out of the window. I specifically chose an empty carriage, because she does have a lot to learn about being discreet when Muggles are present.

'You do know why. Apparating isn't good for the baby, and using the Floo makes me sick. You should get used to it. This time next week you'll be on the Hogwarts Express.'

She doesn't say anything, but in her reflection I can see her bite her lip. Her long, dark hair falls forward to hide her face, and she scuffs her trainers nervously. I take her hand and squeeze it.

'You'll have a great time, you know. Hagrid will meet you from the train, and Minerva will be at Hogwarts when you get there.'

'That's not the point. I'm a Snape, remember.'

'Yes, you are. You should be very proud of that, Harriet.'

'I am, Mum. I love Dad, but not everyone does.'

I don't know what to say. I know she's right, and she could very well be in for a hard time at school. Even if she didn't have Severus' name, there would be no hiding her heritage. She has grown tall and gangly like her father at the same age, and her colouring gives her away immediately.

'You promise I can come home when the baby is born?'

'Of course. I've already arranged it with Minerva.' I know Harriet wants something to look forward to, and her new brother is due in six weeks time. She would never forgive us if she wasn't part of it.

'And everyone is coming to the station?' She peers at me through the curtain of hair and I see the spark of hope in her eyes. She looks older than her eleven years, but she's still my baby.

'Your dad and Uncle Harry have it all planned, and of course I'll be there, too.'

'People might think it's weird, three of you coming,' she mumbles quietly.

I've been waiting for this. We have an unconventional arrangement compared to Harriet's peers, most of whom will have two parents who are married. When she was younger, she just accepted it for what it is, but now the questions have started.

'One of us could stay behind, if you want,' I say quietly. 'Who would you rather was there?'

She says nothing for a while, but I can tell she's battling with her conscience. 'I want all of you to be there.'

'Okay then. We'll all come.'

'I won't know what to say to people if they ask.'

'You could just tell them the truth, Harriet. I know it's not the same as everyone else, but it is special, isn't it?'

She smiles now. I know she loves having her Uncle Harry in the house, and she gets the best of all of us.

'Will Miranda come, too?'

'Do you want her to?'

'Well, it makes sense. Uncle Harry and dad are together, and you're with Miranda. She's still part of the family, even if she doesn't live in our house.'

'I'll ask her. I think she would love to come.'

Harriet shifts in her seat and rests her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and pull her close, and try not to think about having to say goodbye.

***

Harry

I can't believe I'm doing this. After five years together, Severus still keeps me guessing at times, and he might be happy with the way things are but I'm not. We have a baby on the way, and if that's not commitment I don't know what it, but I still think we need something more.

Not for the first time I wonder what will happen if he refuses me. I won't walk away, because I know that's not what he wants. He hasn't told me outright, but I know he gets scared that everything will fall apart. He becomes distant then, and I have to work hard to get him back to a place where we're equal. I wish he would just relax and enjoy it. This seems to be the only way I can convince him that I'm not going anywhere.

He's not one for sentimentality, but I've cooked the same meal we had in Dublin. I wonder if he'll notice. I light the candles with my wand and turn out the lights. The dining room at Spinner's End is small, and the candle-light casts a cosy glow. It's not as modern as the Dublin house, and most of the furniture is mis-matched and old, but I've grown to love it. It's very Severus. Appearances mean nothing to him, he prefers usefulness and function. This is about as romantic as we get, I suppose, candlelit dinners. It's ironic that I am the one trying to convince Severus of my feelings. I tell him I love him regularly. He's told me he loves me twice. Once, that first night in Dublin and that was in a round about way, and then another time three years ago, when he came home pissed from the pub, after our one and only fight. It was his fault, of course. But I can forgive him everything. That's what this is all about, really.

I knock on the door of the lab and wait for his rumbling tones to bid me enter. I open the door slowly and peek around. He's washing his hands, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up tightly to his bony elbows, the veins of his forearms raised and blue as he flexes his muscles around soap and water. His slim fingers push the suds below his fingernails and I'm in awe of how scrupulously clean he is, always.

'Are you hungry?' I say quietly. Speaking loudly in the lab seems uncouth. He is always silent and diligent, and there is a church-like quality to the space, with the work bench the altar of his work.

He rinses his hands and takes a clean towel to dry them as he turns to me with his eyebrow arched.

'For food?' he says, teasing.

'Well, food first,' I reply with a grin. We don't often have the house to ourselves, but when we do, we make the most of the rug in front of the fire, and I know tonight will be no different. Well, perhaps a bit different.

'I'll be five minutes.' He walks over and kisses me, and I hold on to the wood of the door as my legs turn to jelly. He still does things to me, even after all this time. He always will. I know this with certainty.

I go back upstairs and pour two generous glasses of red wine, and immediately take a large gulp from my glass. I'm veering between nervous excitement and bravery, and between getting down on one knee or just putting the ring box on his plate and saying nothing. I decide on the latter, it being the least risky, and pull the warm, green velvet box from my trouser pocket, where it's been for the last two days. I sit it neatly in the centre of the green and white china plate. This dinner set once belonged to Severus' mother, and I've unearthed it from the back of the china cabinet specifically.

The oven timer buzzes merrily, and I check the beef casserole one last time before turning down the heat. I hear light footfalls on the tiled floor behind me, and as I turn, I see he's holding the box in his hand. His face is a pale mask, and I really can't tell what he's thinking.

'What is this?' he whispers.

'If you open the box, you'll see for yourself.'

'Harry...' His tone is wary with a hint of warning. Mentally, I make a plan to Floo over to Ron's if this goes tits up.

'Open it, Severus. It's not going to bite.'

He snorts at this. The last thing that bit him didn't survive the fight, and I've teased him a number of times about it. The bite mark is my favourite of all his scars, and I love the feel of it beneath my tongue, flat in some parts, wrinkled and rough in others. He opens the box but holds my gaze as he does so, then glances down quickly. I hear his sharp intake of breath, and watch as he lifts the heavy silver ring from its cosy nest. It's an antique ring, old and battered by the passage of time and its previous owners. The edges are smoothly worn, but it's simple and solid. Like him. Like us.

'Do you like it?' I already know that he does. His face has softened and the light in his eyes has gone from wary to bright. He won't cry, but I think he wants to.

'It's a Bonding ring,' he says softly.

'It is if you accept it, Severus.'

'You want a ceremony?' he asks.

'No need for all of that, is there? We can do it now, right here. All you need to do is say yes, Severus. I want to be yours forever. That's all there is to it, really.'

I walk up to him and take the ring from his tentative fingers, lifting his hand purposefully.

'Well?' I smile at him, because I already know he's mine, as I am his.

'Yes, of course.' He smiles as I slip the ring onto his finger. It glows bright blue as it shrinks to fit, and I withdraw my wand, tapping it lightly as I murmur the simple bonding spell from one of Hermione's books.

A replica ring appears on my own finger, and Severus laughs finally, expelling the breath he's been holding. He threads his fingers through mine and we kiss briefly. Later, there will be time for words and emotions if necessary.

Right now, this is all we need.

The End

A/N: I want to thank everyone for sticking with this story, even though it's not my usual fare. I've had a lot of fun writing it so I hope you enjoyed reading it, too.

Big thanks to ARo for the beta, and another quick thanks to OrlandoSwitch for his help with chapter 12.