Chapter Three

If you're going to play the game properly, you'd better know every rule.

Barbara Jordan

Of course, Hermione loved the idea of the Museum. "Oh, Severus, I think it's one of the best ideas I've heard in ages! Oh, you have to do it, please!"

Severus suppressed a sigh of resignation. He was a man who seldom disagreed with his wife; she seldom gave him reason to. This would be one of the rare exceptions.

Severus had known she would be as enthusiastic about the Museum Installation as he was reticent. She was, after all, part of the Golden Trio, and was proud to have played her part in the destruction of the Dark Lord. On the other hand, Severus' emotions concerning the end of Tom Riddle fell more along the lines of grim satisfaction and relief.

Hermione was determined that he, too, would learn to take pride in his accomplishments during the war. "Reminding the Wizarding world what we fought against is a way to ensure it never happens again, Severus."

"You're starting to sound like ruddy Malfoy," Severus grumbled moodily, hating the feeling of being outnumbered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, refusing to take the bait. "Well, we'll overlook that little implied insult, but I do agree with him here, Severus." She put a placating hand on her husband's black-clad arm. "Severus, you are a hero. Now, I know you don't like that word," she added hastily, as he opened his mouth to protest, "and you don't like talking about those days, and I don't blame you on that account."

Her voice was gentle and respectful; the hand on his arm warm and caressing. She looked at him with eyes full of righteous indignation for her mate. "Merlin knows those years leading up to the end were simply awful for you. No one deserved being forced to endure what Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore put you through. But that's why I want the world to know about what you did. All of it. I want them to see the fine, courageous, strong man I married."

Severus turned away. His wife had always had a soft spot for the underdog, and it looked as though he would forever be her pet project on that count. He poured them both a cup of tea. Sipping the scalding liquid, he sighed. "Hermione, I cannot emphasise enough the pleasure it gives me to hear you say those things about me, of all wizards." Severus gave her a look of frustration. "But I cannot help but feel like a fraud. I was not brave, I was not honourable. My cowardice and betrayal were the catalysts for the deaths of James and Lily Potter."

It was no longer painful to say her name, Severus realized, and knew that meant something important, but it did not change the fact. "I don't see why I should be singled out. Many Order members were far more noble and courageous than I." He swallowed, hating the words he knew he must speak. "I don't want to be reminded of the fact I was a terrible teacher here. I was not a nice man, Hermione. I was a Death Eater -"

"Was being the operative word - "

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. It was a magically-binding vow. I shouldn't have to remind you of this; I've told it all before."

Hermione sighed. Yes, they had discussed this many times, and she wanted to remind him that the Death Eater in him was a distant memory, faded like the Dark Mark that once throbbed and burned like poison tattooed under his skin. He had only hinted at the degradation and agony he'd suffered the night he took it, the shame of enduring it and the horror of feeling it flare back to life after all those dormant years. She also felt he was not telling her the complete truth.

Knowing she was wading into very dark, potentially lethal waters, she summoned her courage. "Severus, you cannot have it both ways." At his scowl, she swallowed heavily and continued. "You either have to disregard your past and move on, or accept it as part of yourself and live with it. You tell me you don't want to acknowledge your life as a Death Eater, then turn around in the same breath and declare once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. Alright, I accept that as fact. But you have to accept it as well, and let the story be told!"

Severus looked at his young wife and felt faintly queasy, knowing she was right, and that he was only fooling himself if he believed that he would ever truly be free of the man he once was.

Hermione was on him like a shot. "Oh, no you don't, Severus Tobias Snape! Don't start wallowing in self-recrimination and shame!"

"I thought you said I couldn't have it both ways," he grumbled, and looked away. Hermione touched his arm again, but he refused to look at her.

Whenever she caught him in this peevish sort of mood, Hermione knew she had to be careful or he would spiral into a day-long funk. She retorted, "That's not the same thing and you know it. Severus, look at me!"

Reluctantly, Severus faced his wife. She touched his face, and her hands felt like silk against his skin. Her warm, penny-brown eyes looked into his with absolute trust.

"I was there, Severus. I remember you, and no, you were not a nice man. There were times you actually made me cry, you were so cruel. And don't lie; you enjoyed it." He gave her eyes a searching look, but only saw the same sweet love shining through. "But you were also a brave and courageous man, who had to do terrible things. Some of it was a façade, and some of it was real. I forgave you for both years ago; now you have to forgive yourself for hiding behind them or taking pleasure in doing them."

"I had to do worse than merely insult students -"

"To survive, love! You had no choice!" Hermione shook her head, her lovely face full of empathy. "I know you did things I cannot begin to imagine, and since you won't tell me, I'll never know. And I'm fine with that; you don't have to tell me everything.

"I married the entire package, Severus. The good and the bad, the light and the dark. They are part of you, and what you are to me." Hermione touched his face again, and her voice was soft. "I may not have liked you very much then, but I respected the hell out of you. You made me think. You made me grow. You challenged me then, and you still do now, and I have loved meeting every challenge you have ever given me."

Severus looked away, abashed at her passionate declaration, and Hermione felt she had better stop while she was ahead. She tucked her hand in his, and he looked down at the small, slender hand trustingly encased in his palm. "I love every aspect of you, Severus Snape, and I don't care who knows it. Your integrity, your insecurity, your intelligence, your snarkiness, your sexiness -"

"I'll not display my sexiness for anyone," he pouted, but Hermione could see him softening, giving in. She smiled.

"No, I think I'll keep that aspect of you to myself, thank you," she said, and kissed his warm lips until he responded to her, bestowing a loving kiss of his own. Hermione looked at him, and her heart swelled, as it always did for this complex, intricate soul. "Accept it, Severus. You're a famous man in our world. Let them enjoy you; enjoy being given your due."

He did not protest, but his eyes remained troubled. "I still think I should just be included with the Order."

"They will have their own display, Severus. I'm not trying to say they don't deserve it. Tonks and Remus, for example. They gave their lives, and left their son an orphan." She knelt at her husband's side. He looked down at her with a mixture of love and uncertainty. It was a look she was very familiar with.

"I keep thinking about little Teddy; how proud he will be to see this tribute to Tonks and Remus. And Neville cried, when he was told there would be a part of the museum dedicated to his parents." Frank and Alice Longbottom had both died during the past few years, and Hermione knew exactly what this tribute would mean to Neville.

Finally, she played her last card. "But no one, no one did what you did," Hermione said, smiling up at him. "Severus, I won't try to make you do something you have no wish to do, but I will tell you this." She took his hands in hers, and kissed them.

"I adore you; and one day, we're going to make strong, beautiful, magical, brilliant little black-eyed babies together. And I will not hesitate to tell them every day just how blessed they are to have such an incredible man for a father.

"And when our babies grow old enough to understand, it would make me so proud to show them the exhibit dedicated to you, so they could see what a great man their father is in the eyes of the world they live in, and how great they can be, because they have his blood in their veins."

Severus looked down at his wife, and was surprised to see tears sparkling in her eyes. Her earnest, lovely face was open and honest, and love shone from it.

Severus reached for her, and pulled her into his lap, and kissed her lovingly. She lay against his shoulder with the trusting attitude of a child. "Sometimes I am fairly certain I don't deserve you." His voice was soft and wistful, and all the more beautiful for it.

Hermione smiled as she toyed with the buttons of his robe. "Who, me? The insufferable, buck-toothed know-it-all? Some of your old students would say you got exactly what you deserved."

"I'd like to see them try," he growled, but his eyes were soft, and when he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it reverently, Hermione knew he'd made a decision.

Severus conceded with a sigh. "Alright. I cannot fight you and the Board of Governors. I'll owl them and tell them they can start their infernal Installation." He gave his wife a sly look. "I'll give you the happy task of helping me prepare the school for it."

Apparating onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor always gave Hermione an uneasy sense of déjà vu. In spite of the enjoyable times she'd spent there since, she never forgot what happened there on that hideous day near the end of the war when she, Harry and Ron were brought to the imposing house by the Snatchers.

The Crucio she'd suffered at Bellatrix Lestrange's wand was something that had haunted her for a long time; the blinding pain, the humiliation of soiling herself as her bladder, bowels and stomach emptied on the expensive carpet, the fear that she would break and give them all away ... Being the pragmatist she was, her nightmares had ceased a long time ago, but there were still moments when Hermione would first catch sight of the manor, and her heart would beat faster.

Severus never mentioned the change in her. It was subtle, after all. Instead, he would place his arm around her and protectively envelop her in his cloak, drawing her close as they walked up the path to the door. It was one of his many unspoken gestures of comfort towards her, and it always did the trick.

A house-elf welcomed them in, and Hermione smiled approvingly at the small elf, clad in an immaculate towel with the Malfoy crest embroidered on the front. Draco still teased Hermione about S.P.E.W., as did almost everyone who knew her, but he agreed with her that house-elves belonging to fine, Pureblood families like the Malfoys should at least have nice tea-towels to wear.

Draco had regaled his friends with a lively description of how he had had to remove all the old towels in the kitchens and replace them with the nice new ones, so that the elves didn't think they were being given clothes. The image of the aristocratic Draco sneaking around, picking up smelly, threadbare tea towels, holding his nose and stuffing the offending rags in a bag still brought a smile to Hermione's lips.

"Lovely to see you, dear," Narcissa said, kissing Hermione's cheek. She looked tired. "Come in to the drawing room; Luc is making drinks. Tiddle!"

A little house-elf with enormous blue eyes appeared with a little 'POP!' "Yes, Mistress?" she squeaked, looking up at Narcissa with hope-filled eyes.

"Take Headmaster and Madam Snape's cloaks. We'll be ready for dinner in half an hour."

"Yes Mistress!" Tiddle squeaked, her large round eyes brimming with happiness. She took the garments from Severus and Hermione and disappeared with a cracking noise.

"So, Draco and Astoria are back from the honeymoon now?" Severus inquired, as they walked down the hall to the Drawing Room. The big news of the past week was the wedding of Draco to Astoria Greengrass.

Everyone who was anyone in the Wizarding world had been invited. Severus teased Lucius that they had used the occasion as a massive photo opportunity, and Lucius blithely, unrepentantly confirmed it as such. But the machinations of the festivities had been long and exhausting, and showed on Narcissa's face. The honeymooners had just returned from Tuscany.

Lucius drawled with a martyred sigh. "Yes, and you should see Draco - brown as a berry! He looks positively common." He smiled. "Still, he's happy and healthy, so one mustn't grumble. Our meal times have suffered, though," he continued, his aristocratic face wrinkling with disdain.

Dinner that night was an unexpectedly disastrous affair. Burnt roasties, lumpy gravy, sprouts boiled to extinction, and a roast joint that, on closer inspection, could have easily passed for shoe leather. Narcissa was embarrassed but resigned. "I'm afraid our regular cook is currently in residence with Draco and Astoria, getting their household arranged. Tiddle is a very hard worker, but ..." she waved her hand as if to say, 'What can you do?'

"I wouldn't worry, Narcissa," Severus replied thoughtfully, sawing away manfully at his roast beef. "Miss Greengrass was a very resourceful witch; no doubt she will soon find her bearings."

"Yes," Lucius answered smoothly, familial loyalty winning out. "No doubt she'll soon find the... umm, her... umm," Both Hermione and Narcissa were starting to laugh behind their napkins.

"Way to the kitchen?" Narcissa giggled, and the four of them laughed.

"I really can't talk," Hermione chuckled ruefully. "I used to cook quite a lot. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but Hogwarts does spoil you with the sheer amount of house-elves. It makes me feel like the biggest hypocrite in the world, but you can't argue with their cooking." Her eyes widened, and she turned to Severus. "Could we ask one of the house-elves to come here temporarily, to help cook, just until Astoria gets..." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, who am I kidding? Could we do that?"

Severus shrugged. "We could ask. What say you, Narcissa? Would you care for the loan of a better cook while your senior elf is off supervising the honeymooners?"

Narcissa beamed. "That would be lovely, Severus!" She turned to Hermione and gave her a warm look. "Awfully thoughtful of you dear! We'd happily accept one of the Hogwarts' cooks!"

"I'll see about it tomorrow," Severus said, elegantly lining his fork and knife upon his plate, to signal he was finished. He looked at his host and hostess. "I think pizza is in order, don't you?"

"Now, I'm sure you're cheating, Severus," Narcissa pouted. "You're using your Legilimency skills to a very unfair advantage." She, Lucius and Hermione watched as Severus' game piece skipped happily to the last square on the board, whistling 'The Winner Takes It All'.

Severus placed a long, pale hand over his heart, and gave his hostess a withering, offended look. "I assure you, Madam Malfoy, I would do no such thing." His lovely voice, rolling through the large game room, sounded as oily as his host's. "Can I help it that my gaming partners are so transparent?"

His wife was unimpressed. "Hmph." She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face, Severus Snape!" Hermione declared triumphantly. She turned to her fellow players. "Now remember, he has to get all three answers matched correctly to win. I'm counting on you two to use your Slytherin wiles to ensure he doesn't."

Lucius eyed Severus with a fiercely competitive gleam in his eyes. "Rest assured, Madam Snape, our slippery friend will not triumph this evening. Do your worst, Headmaster," he gestured imperiously. "Ask your infernal question."

Severus, smiling at Lucius' gauntlet-throwing and his wife's locker room pep talk, drew his last card with a flourish. He smirked at the card, raising a dark, silken eyebrow. "Ladies, and Lucius, I ask, 'What Say You?'" With a deep chuckle meant to sound salacious, he purred, "At this precise moment, what is the biggest change you would like to make in..." he waggled his eyebrows like a villain in a Victorian melodrama. "The bedroom?"

His three opponents, he saw, all wore different expressions. Lucius and Narcissa carefully schooled their features - perfect Slytherins to the core. They would play cross and double-cross, trying to deceive with distraction; divide and conquer. Hermione would be the easiest to decipher; she had a terrible poker face.

Narcissa, Lucius and Hermione bent over their parchments and began writing. The game came with its own 'Recognise-Me-Not' quills; once an answer had been written down, the handwriting changed, and once Lucius shuffled the parchments under the table and presented them to Severus, each parchment would look as if written by the same person. It was up to Severus to use his ability and knowledge of his fellow players to deduce who had said what, and this time, he had to correctly identify all three to win.

Lucius solemnly handed Severus the pieces of parchment with the air of an undersecretary delivering a bill to the Wizengamot. Severus took them with equal solemnity, and looked down his large nose through his reading glasses. He smirked, and shook his head. Tutting at his companions, he drawled, "Oh, my. This is a broad church."

Clearing his throat, he announced. "At this precise moment, what is the biggest change you would like to make in the bedroom? And my esteemed and learned colleagues have answered: one, a better view of the Quidditch pitch; two, a new carpet," he pronounced, giving his audience a sarcastic, eye rolling look. Finally, with a voice pitched with silken sinfulness, he purred, "And three: uninhibited, bondage-and-discipline sex with a very Dominant Daddy."

Severus looked up, expecting to see three pairs of averted eyes, avoiding the possibility of Legilimency. Instead of looking at the tops of three heads, he saw two, plus the direct stare of the amber eyes of his wife. She had the most unusual expression on her face; it was expectant, almost pleading. He hesitated for a moment, and raised his eyebrow in question. She gave him a little enigmatic shrug, as if to extend the invitation to read her mind. There was a hint of challenge in her look, as well.

Just then, Lucius raised his head slightly. "Well, do I take from your silence that you have conceded defeat and are unable to match us with our answers?" He risked a glance at the couple staring into one another's eyes and huffed. "Oh that is unfair, Severus! Trying to coerce your wife into revealing her answer. I'm the cheat here, if you don't mind!"

Severus broke eye contact with Hermione and turned back to Lucius. Smugly, he replied, "There is no need to cheat. The answers are as obvious as I expected they would be."

Narcissa also risked looking up. "Well, then, Poirot, 'What Say You?'" she smiled.

Severus pursed his lips. "Well, it's quite obvious that both you and Lucius attempted to deceive me - one of you with the truth, and one of you by giving an answer that would sound like it came from Hermione. And I anticipated my dear wife would have an answer so off base as to attempt to completely throw me off the scent. Once again, I was correct."

"Oh, this all very interesting, Severus," Lucius drawled in his most bored tone. "But the fact of the matter is that you are stalling."

Severus looked at his old friends, then pointed at Narcissa. "View of the Quidditch pitch." Lucius. "New carpet." He last turned to Hermione. "Steamy, uninhibited Daddy sex."

Narcissa looked perturbed, Lucius resigned. Hermione's face was unreadable. Severus looked at the trio before him. "Am I right?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Narcissa sighed. Lucius also nodded in affirmation, which apparently shocked his wife. "Did you say that to throw him off the scent?"

Lucius shrugged. "I'm afraid our esteemed Headmaster was right. I was indeed trying to deceive with the truth, my dear."

Narcissa looked faintly hurt. "Why Luc, I thought you liked that carpet."

Lucius groaned. "Oh, Cissa darling, I loathe that Aubusson nightmare." They were both laughing and did not notice Hermione's gaze drop to the table. Lucius, however, noticed Severus gazing at Hermione. Turning to her, Lucius challenged, "And just who were you trying to emulate so that Severus would think it was one of us? Surely, Narcissa doesn't strike you as the type who'd need me to be any more Dominant than I already am!" He preened with an exaggerated swagger, and Narcissa caught Hermione's eye and winked. She leaned forward and spoke quietly to Lucius.

"My dear, I think she might have been suggesting you were the one in need of a Daddy, not I."

Lucius' pretended indignation made them all laugh. "Well, I never," he spluttered. "Cissa, call the house-elves. I'm sending this one packing!" He was smirking as he spoke.

Severus replied dryly, "Of course, Daddy dearest." He chuckled with his friends. "And on that rather bizarre note, Hermione and I must take our leave. The dunderheads at the Ministry are coming in the morning to talk about this bloody Museum Installation, and I've got to show them around and prepare a workspace for them."

Hermione was strangely quiet as they greeted Mr. Filch, who opened the large doors to welcome them back to Hogwarts. She smiled and nodded as Severus chatted about the meeting on the morrow, but he could see she was preoccupied.

As they prepared for bed, Severus let her be, but experience told him that whatever was bothering her would soon be too much to contain, and she would eventually tell him or burst. Finally, as they crawled under the covers, it was Severus who broke the silence. "What is troubling you, dear? You've been acting unusually quiet ever since we left the Malfoys."

For a moment, Severus thought she wasn't going to answer. She merely looked into his dark eyes, and he again resisted the temptation to look into her mind. This vague unease worried him. "Hermione, is something wrong? Have I said or done something to offend?"

"No," she replied evenly, and looked away, biting her lower lip. It was a gesture he knew only too well; it brought to mind a bright young student worrying away at her bottom lip, her only concession to the insecurities she had suffered during her early years at Hogwarts.

Severus frowned. "Hermione, I am starting to grow concerned. Please, talk to me."

Finally, she asked, "Why did you think the answer about sex came from me?"

"What?"

Hermione flushed slightly. "Tonight, the last game. You said you knew I had written the answer about uninhibited sex." She turned the full battery of her forthright stare on him. "How did you know it was my answer?"

Severus gave her a puzzled look and reached out to stroke her cheek. "Are you asking me if I cheated?"

Mildly, he answered, "I promise, I did not. I merely guessed at how I thought the three of you would answer. Lucius would be truthful, and you and Narcissa would try to deceive me by giving me answers that could have possibly come from each other."

"So, you think Narcissa would want wild, uninhibited sex?"

Severus smiled. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines that the last thing you would want was any view of the Quidditch pitch." When she didn't return his smile, Severus grew serious again. "Hermione, what in Merlin's name is this about?" He sighed, and replied teasingly, "Surely you didn't expect me to believe you want us to engage in some sort of sado-masochistic, fantasy sex?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "What if I did?"

Severus propped himself on his elbow. "What? You want me prancing around in a black leather gimp mask, pouring wax all over you while shagging you tied up against the brick wall?"

Hermione made a small moue of consideration. "The mask I could do without, but the wax and the wall sound a bit exciting."

Severus sat up. He was no longer playful. "Are you trying to tell me I am unable to satisfy you in bed?"

Hermione jumped up and put her arms around her husband. "No! Severus, that's not it at all! You are a marvelous lover!"

"I see," he said, his voice cool. He looked down at his hands. "Just not a very interesting one."

Hermione tried to pull his unyielding body back down on the bed. Pleadingly, she cried, "Please don't twist my words!" Her voice was frightened. "I was so afraid this would happen. That's why I've never said anything. I didn't mean that at all, you must believe me, Severus! I would never say anything to hurt you!"

When he did not answer, Hermione jumped out of bed and knelt at his feet. He would not look at her. "Severus, if you don't believe me, please look in my thoughts. I've been trying to get you to do that all night!"

Severus looked down at his wife. He placed one hand on her shoulder and cupped her chin in the palm of his opposite hand. "Legilimens!" He whispered, and entered her mind.

He saw them, making love. He felt her passion, her absolute love and devotion to him. As they came together, another image of himself floated into her consciousness; she was standing behind him, sandwiched between the wall behind her and his broad back. She was pinned between them, and he was saying to an unseen person beyond his shoulder, "If you do not stop me, I can and will do unspeakable things to her, and I will enjoy doing it!"

She was looking at the back of his coat, and her hands pressed against his back, just as he spun around to face her, his expression harsh and unforgiving. Severus saw himself, bearing down on his wife, pitiless and powerful. He felt a sharp pang of desire lance through her mind, watching him...

Confused, he pulled away from her mind, but kept his hand on her shoulder. He was staring down at her as if he'd never truly seen her before. "What are trying to say to me, Hermione? That the idea of me hurting you excites you?"

She put her arms around his knees and drew close to him. "No! I don't want you to actually hurt me!" She lowered her eyes, and Severus understood. It came to him like a thunderbolt.

She had deceived him in the game with the truth. All her life she had looked up to him; he had been a dominant force in her teenage years as a stern disciplinarian, and of all her teachers, his approval was the one she had desired the most and received the least. He had been an ambivalent character in her later teens, a knight of both the dark and the light. And through it all, she had looked up to him and treated him with respect. She had ever been obedient; even when he fired insults and withering comments, she had put her head down, and obeyed.

Now they were married she had wanted, no, expected him to fulfill the same role in their bed as well. She had expected him to sexually dominate her, and she had wanted it; she wanted to submit to a lover who forced her to succumb to his dark pleasures. She was excited about the possibility that he could hurt her, if he so chose.

The implications of this realisation rocked Severus to his core. He took a deep breath, and schooled his thoughts. In his most neutral tones, he said quietly, "These can be dangerous games, Hermione. I know. I have played them in the past." He felt her shiver, and he closed his eyes. "Hermione, you're asking me to rouse a part of myself that I don't truly know is wise to awaken from its slumber."

Hermione pulled back and looked at him. "You wouldn't hurt me, Severus. Letting go and abandoning yourself to sexual pleasure is not something you should be afraid of! It's simply not in you to hurt me."

A scowl fleeted across his features. "Isn't it? You can't know that. I have hurt people in the past. I was not a nice man, Hermione." He looked away, and his voice took on a bitter, bleak tone she had not heard in many years. "Oh, yes, I've played those games, my dear. I've been the Master; I've been the Daddy -"

"I don't want to know what you did with those women!" she said vehemently, and he could see tears glistening in her eyes.

He cupped her cheek, and answered softly, "You see, Hermione? Already, I'm hurting you."

She rose to her feet and stood over him, angrily swiping away her tears. "You're not being fair. You want to tell me about these other women to frighten me! I don't know or care what you did with them! I want to know what you would do with me!" Her warm eyes seemed to burn in the light. "I want to know what it's like – to see you lose control, to lose yourself with me!" She closed her eyes, as if savouring her words. "I want to hear you say those dirty things to me, to make me call you Master and obey you. To know I'm making you say and do these things."

Severus looked into the flashing eyes of his wife. "Hermione, you are asking me to say and do things that go against everything I have tried to become! You can't honestly tell me you want to be married to the hideous teacher of your youth! I don't want to be that domineering, cruel man anymore! I don't want to order you around our bedroom like a slave."

Hermione's eyes looked huge in the dim light. "Severus, what if I want you to?"

"You don't know what you are asking of me!" he hissed, and turned away.

Hermione stubbornly held her ground. "Yes, I do. I know you can give it to me. That you can make me feel helpless, that you could make me crawl on my hands and knees to you." He closed his eyes, and Hermione could feel him wanting to respond. She swallowed and continued huskily, "That you could make me beg you to do things to me. You could spank me, and tie me up and use your voice to -"

"Hermione, it's very late, and we both have a very full day ahead of us." He sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of his nose. His voice softened slightly. "We will discuss this tomorrow, I promise. But I really need to sleep now."

Hermione, her shoulders slumped in frustration, knew better than to press the point. Blunt insistence only got you so far with Severus Snape. Instead, she nodded, and together they climbed back in bed. Severus spooned against her, and kissed her goodnight, and when Hermione whispered, "I love you, Severus," he replied in kind.

Hermione forced her breathing to slow, and pretended to drift off to sleep. After a moment, she felt Severus pull away from her, and turn over, so that his back was to her. Both lay awake for a long time.