You Never Forget Your First Time

Disclaimer in the first chapter.

"Never?" Incredulity left her voice a bit screechy. While it was an interesting change from her more usual inflections, it wasn't exactly a pleasant one and Severus grimaced at the sound.

"Not even once?" Obviously, the Brightest Witch of Her Age had regressed over the years.

"No."

"But you're fifty-one years old!" she protested. "How is that even possible?"

"You know my history," he said with as much patience as he could force. "I was hardly the type anyone would ask, and by the time I could afford to pay for it on my own, I was... often otherwise occupied."

He could have lied about his reasons, but he knew, from painful experience, she'd only catch him out, eventually. And then there would be hell to pay. It was best just to offer her honesty most of the time, really.

Since the end of the war, Hermione'd found far more success in getting others to join her ridiculous efforts at helping others. Their marriage had come to pass as one such scheme.

The reality of it was nothing like the alliance she'd led him to expect.

He wasn't even out of hospital before she'd tossed her proposal at him, promising companionship and a chance at a fresh start. He hadn't believed in the future she envisioned, but since finding a willing witch was a term of his parole, overlooking the flaws in her argument wasn't a huge chore.

Oh, in the beginning, things were exactly as she said they'd be. As promised, she gave him friendship, trust and a chance to more fully recover from that blasted snake's bite.

But what was supposed to be a four-year partnership had lasted nearly threes times that. And she didn't appear to mind in the least.

"Might as well leave things as they are," she was wont to say on the rare occasion he broached the subject. "It's not as if either one of us has any other prospects."

And yet, things were decidedly different to what they'd been at the start. Each little change had come about too gradually for him to notice it in time to extricate himself. Not that he'd ever considered complaining. Despite his best intentions he was now dependent on a little witch who swore she knew best and who ruled his life.

"I can't believe I didn't know this about you," she said now. "Why did you never say anything?"

He studied his toes. "Well, I did suggest...that is to say, on our honeymoon..."

"But I was too busy wanting to explore Athens to pay proper attention!" she cut in with a frown that rivalled the best of his own. "But if you had just told me why, I might have responded differently."

He didn't bother to respond. Severus Snape didn't beg. She knew that.

"I'll make it up to you!" she said suddenly and leapt up. "Let's do it!"

Severus arched an eyebrow and frowned. "What? Now?"

"Yes, now! It's not all that late."

She smiled at him hopefully.

He hated when she did that. At least that's what he liked to tell himself. The truth was, he relished every conniving, manipulative grin which crossed her face.

Only just holding back a long-suffering sigh (with her, it was never a good idea to show signs of weakness), Severus curled his lips together in what he (rather proudly) could feel was a sneer worthy of his best years baiting Gryffindors.

But she was too busy pulling her nightgown over her head to notice.

"I haven't said yes," he pointed out, trying to sound bored and dispassionate.

He failed.

"But you won't say no," she pointed out.

Of course, I won't! Not with you over there looking like that!

He searched his deepest depths for the familiar spark of bitterness and annoyance, but only succeeding in finding anticipation and a touch of nerves.

She stood before him, in all her naked glory, smiling again. This time, he recognised certainty and a hint of triumph in her wide brown eyes.

"You won't, you know," she asserted.

"Oh, all right!" he snapped. "Yes. Are you quite satisfied?"

"Not yet," she told him, stepping up to the bed. Leaning forward, she took his hand in hers and tugged until he was sitting up. "But I will be soon," she murmured as he slipped his arms round her (naked!) waist and buried his face in her bosom.

SS~HG

"Your efforts to mould me into an ideal husband leave much to be desired," he muttered in her ear. He clutched her to his chest, still a bit woozy from Side-Along Apparating to an unfamiliar district in London and not quite ready to accept his plans for the evening had been interrupted.

Hermione dropped her arms, stepping away from him before he was ready.

"Ooh! Mum has that on DVD. The one with Rupert Everett. We should borrow that for next time."

Though a great lover of Oscar Wilde, Severus didn't look forward to a night of listening to his wife rhapsodising over the dark good looks of another man. He kept that to himself and allowed her to lead them out of the darkened alley.

He nearly stumbled when she abruptly halted the brisk pace she'd set.

"What...?" A quick glance around them answered his question before he finished asking.

A long queue, at least four people deep and confined within ropes attached to stanchions at regular intervals, stretched from the cinema doors and down the walkway. There must have been hundreds, if not thousands, waiting to enter.

Most disturbing was that at least half of the crowd was dressed in flowing robes.

Surreptitiously, Severus reached for his wand.

SS~HG

"Oh, damn!"

Hermione's exclamation didn't seem suitably distressed considered they'd just arrived to find hundreds of witches and wizards breaking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Severus glanced at her and saw she looked far more upset than she sounded.

"Let's just go back home," she said. "You can see your first movie some other time."

She started to turn away, raising his suspicions.

"A moment, please," he said, closing his fingers around her upper arm. "What's your rush..."

Then he saw the cinema's marquee; it announced in large black letters:

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part II

He glanced back down in time to catch Hermione's concerned look.

"I didn't know," she said worriedly. "I haven't been keeping up with the Muggle papers lately."

Severus ruminated on their situation. He didn't especially want to relive bad memories or open up old wounds, but he truly didn't think there was much danger of that.

Still, "As long as you don't wish to see that particular, film," he told her, "I see no reason not to do as we planned."

She smiled up at him. It was a weak, wobbly tremulous thing. He wanted to applaud the courage her effort evinced.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he said, guiding her past the queue to the ticket window.

SS~HG

"Potter's sold out," the clerk announced from inside her glass cage.

"Thank Merlin," Severus said, sotto voce.

"That's fine," Hermione said, her sharp elbow connecting with his ribs. "We'll take two for whatever else is showing soonest."

"Really?" asked the clerk, leaning right up to the glass window separating her from the Muggle masses. "Because, I hope you don't mind me saying, with your hair, you'd be a better Hermione that that Watson girl. And your bloke would make a good Snape, I should think. That Alan Rickman's too handsome by far!" She giggled to herself, but then caught Hermione's glare. Leaning back, the clerk rushed to add, "Not that your man doesn't have a certain way about him. Besides, Rickman is too old, as well." She didn't wait for Hermione's face to unfreeze. "Right, then. Which do you fancy, Potiche or Bad Teacher?"

Severus saw the grin his wife was struggling to hide as she glanced at him.

Turning back to the clerk, she said, "Potiche, I think," and handed over her credit card.

They both watched the clerk's eyes go round as she stared at the card instead of completing the transaction.

"Of course, the courts dismissed my wife's defamation claim against Ms. Rowling," Severus offered. "Something about common names, you know."

The clerk looked up and gave them a brief, disbelieving smile before typing something into her machine.

"Right," she muttered.

"We had to settle for Obliviating her accountant, instead," Severus said, his voice dark and dangerous. He let the tip of his wand slip past the edge of his sleeve.

The clerk's head snapped back up.

"Er, right," she said, licking her lips nervously, then pushed Hermione's card back through the slot. "Oh, look! Turns out we're running a promotion tonight. Fourteenth and fifteenth guests for Potiche are in free." She tapped something else into the machine then pushed two tickets through the slot. "Enjoy your show."