7/7: Three and a Half Years Later...

A/N: These characters are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I make no money from this story and claim no rights. Nothing you recognise belongs to me.

This Epilogue is really quite unnecessary to the story, but I felt compelled by the Muse to write it, so if you are happy with the way that Chapter 6 ended, you may want to stop there. If you'd like to see what happened next, by all means, read on, MacDuff:

The news of Voldemort's defeat at the hands of Neville Longbottom had been the only topic on Canberra's Wizarding wireless for the past thirty-six hours, and the celebrations in Wizarding Australia had been going on at least that long. Merlin only knew what they were doing in Britain. Here in Australia, not only did they not know, but they cared even less.

They had already spoken to Neville separately and together to congratulate him; it was the last time they would need to offer him their counsel and advice; already the new Order of the Phoenix had rounded up the last remaining Death Eaters and galvanised the Ministry into behaving like a governing body again.

Their official pardons and nominations for their Order of Merlin medals had arrived via Portkey that morning. Not that medals mattered; being exonerated had ever been their goal, and now that it had happened, they were content for the politicians to take over so they could return to their lives.

It had started almost the moment they sneaked out of Wizarding Britain. Freed from the pall of Spinner's End, armed with the information of what had actually happened (via Legilimency and a hefty dose of Veritaserum), Hermione and Severus at last pieced together the horrors that had befallen them.

It was easier to accept Severus' irrational behavior as they came to realise that his feelings for her had been twisted so obscenely by Malfoy's suggestions. Once they'd retraced the steps, it made better sense: Severus had developed feelings of affection for Hermione, and the strong emotional hatred impulse Lucius planted battled so fiercely in Severus' mind that the only way he could reconcile them was to turn the hatred into lust. It was the only way he could justify the intense feelings; anger, lust, sex.

It was only during the act of sex itself that Severus' guard lowered enough, and the planted suggestion could take over. This, they realized, was the reason he turned so abusive during the act itself; his own abandonment at making love to a woman he truly esteemed compromised his inner discipline enough to allow the implanted hatred to take over his subconscious again.

It was also the key to his daytime behaviour – forcing her to clean his house – his unconscious mind's unspoken, hidden plea for her to help him 'clean up' his own mind. Neither were experts in the functions of the subconscious mind, but it made sense to them, and comforted them both.

Severus could not hate Hermione; therefore, rage, dominance and sexual abuse took its place. It fulfilled Lucius' remit, and allowed Severus to keep his sanity. It was only when the modifications began to fade that the sexual games became more confusing. Severus unconsciously knew he was going against his own dearly held principles, but could not break free from the compulsion. This, coupled with the misinformation about Hermione's role in Potter's capture, conflicted Severus to the very brink of madness. Hermione thought it was a testament to his strength that he hadn't driven himself completely insane trying to fight the implanted suggestion and harmed them both.

As the truth gradually seeped into their bones, they found it easier to accept and forgive themselves, and set about the cautious task of getting to know one another. It never occurred to them to go their separate ways. They had been together through too much, and found a strange sort of comfort in each other's presence. As far as they knew, the Order was dead. For that matter, so was Hogwarts, and that bothered Severus more than anything; to be remembered as the Headmaster in charge of the destruction of Hogwarts was a constant ache in his heart that no amount of forgiveness on Hermione's part could comfort.

It was only after they left Spinner's End that Hermione and Severus both started suffering from horrible nightmares. They took to sleeping in the same bed, just to be able for one to rouse the other when the twitching and cries began. They did not engage in sex; neither was ready, and they found comfort in this as well.

It took them the better part of a month to track down her parents. Hermione had given them false names, passports, the lot, but had not tried to send them to a specific location – she concluded that, if she did not know where they were, no one could torture the information out of her. Finally, when she and Severus knocked on the door in Canberra and she saw the sweet face of her dad in the doorway, she was so overcome with relief and emotion that Severus had to step in and get the job done.

With more charm than Hermione had ever heard issue from his lips, Severus announced, "Mr. Wilkins? Hello, I'm Stephen Robbin and this is my colleague, Rachel Wingate. We are from the Neighbourhood Watch." He flashed something in her father's face which, presumably, he saw as an identification card. Severus smiled. "May we come in?"

After that, it took another two days to fully restore her parents' memories, and a further week to gain their forgiveness. They were furious with her, and finally, after several hours of haranguing, Severus showed his true colours.

"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, but I grow exceedingly weary of this listless diatribe. Your daughter is a bright, caring, intelligent, and brave woman, who whisked you out of harm's way in one of the cleverest ruses I have ever seen. Your lack of gratitude is only surpassed by your appalling lack of manners." Everyone assaulted him at once.

Hermione blanched. "Severus, please – "

"How dare you?" her mother snapped.

"Now listen here, you –" Mr. Granger started, rising from his chair.

"Quiet, all of you!" Severus' voice rang cold and imperious into the room, and the three Grangers were cowed into silence. Severus looked over at Hermione, who was staring at him with eyes filled with the fear he had promised she would never again feel in his presence. Something in his heart cracked, and he slumped dejectedly.

Heedless of the two older people in the room, Severus crossed to her and knelt at her feet. He put a gentle hand on her knee. In a quiet voice, he said, "I'm sorry, Hermione. By the gods, I swore I would never again raise my voice to you, and I have. Forgive me for my thoughtlessness." He turned to her parents with a scathing glare, and they both felt guilty for no reason whatsoever.

A look passed between Hermione's parents, and they saw at the dark man with new eyes. They watched their daughter, gazing down at him with a mixture of rebuke, forgiveness and fondness, and in that moment, the very air seemed to change. Her professor, this Snape fellow, was stupidly in love with their daughter, and unless she was mistaken, Jean Granger was fairly certain her daughter felt the same about him.

The four of them settled into life together in Canberra. The Grangers kept their false name, and Hermione became Rachel Wilkins, their daughter just home from Uni in London, and Severus became Stephen Robbin, a lodger from England. They found jobs in the Wizarding districts of the Capital city, but under assumed names and always under a very powerful glamour. They were well known; they could not risk exposure even here.

They slept in separate rooms, and although the way they felt about one another was written on their faces for all to see, their companionship did not extend to sharing a bed. At night, they would watch telly together, Hermione nestled in the crook of Severus' arm, and they would discuss things in hushed tones, their attitude with one another affectionate, intimate, but nevertheless restrained. It was quite puzzling to her parents, but they said nothing.

Almost two months to the day after they'd arrived in Australia, Severus' Dark Mark burned. And burned. They could smell it, acrid and revolting. The pain ran under his skin like acid, causing his fingers to claw inward and his body to burn with fever. He wept in misery the entire night.

The agony was so blinding he became delirious, and at one point he asked Hermione to literally remove part of his arm. She responded by doping him up on Pain Potions and healing charms. Between the Fever Reducing Elixir to ease the chills and Hermione's own tender ministrations, Severus eventually renounced his grisly proposal.

Hermione simply held him while he cried, rocking him helplessly until he passed out, either from the distress or the potions. She apologized over and over for forcing the potions on him, and he forgave her over and over; which also puzzled her parents, but again they kept their counsel. Their daughter had changed in the year since they'd left England, and to try to order her about now seemed not only pointless but also tactless. Whatever there was between their daughter and her older, brooding companion was none of their business, as far as they could see.

For two additional months the Mark would flare periodically, each time a little less intensely. Finally, the pain stopped altogether. The four of them celebrated Hermione's and Severus' six month anniversary as Australians trying to strategise how to find out what was happening in Wizarding Britain.

Nine months turned into a year; they celebrated Christmas together. Severus and Hermione gradually grew closer, their company easy and comfortable. They would often sit entwined on the sofa; more than once, Hermione felt his lips against her hair, his fingers stroking her arm, and it stirred and troubled her that he seemed content to go no further.

Hermione wanted to approach him with the idea of becoming lovers, but each time she made overtures to the subject, he would either have to check on a potion in the basement or he would goad her into an argument to change the subject. It never lasted long, and was never an out and out brawl, but it troubled Hermione to the point where she decided to confront him one night, fourteen months after the Night of Screams.

"Severus?"

His reply was a rather disinterested grunt. He was reading a Potions journal, his dark glasses perched on his nose. He was sipping a cup of tea. Hermione loved him like this; calm, at ease, reading about something he obviously enjoyed, even if just to argue and mutter to himself that this theory was crap or that proposal would never fly. It didn't matter that the Journal was two years out of date; it served to remind him that he was, or rather, had been, a leader in his field. It seemed a shame, Hermione thought, to yank him away from something he loved so much to answer her question.

She took a deep breath. "Severus, is there someone else?"

"Someone else where?" he said, still absorbed in his journal. He tilted his head and murmured, "How Ringeisen thinks you can strain dragon's blood to release only the antibodies is beyond me – "

"Severus!"

He looked up at her strained tone, alarmed. "Is something wrong?"

She could feel her anger rising. "I don't know – you tell me!"

He regarded her quietly for a moment, then something like understanding flashed in his face. "Is it the seventeenth already?"

"No, and I resent you implying that my PMT has anything to do with anything!" she countered, her amber eyes starting to smolder.

"Then what on earth are you babbling about, Granger?" His tone was so calmly impatient she wanted to hex him.

"I'm bab – " She counted to five, then started again, her voice marginally calmer. "I'm asking you, Severus Snape, if you are seeing another woman."

She might as well have asked him if he were shagging Lord Voldemort for the reaction she received. He stared at her for a moment as if nifflers were floating out of her ears. In a tone of voice that revealed just how flummoxed he was, he replied, "Hermione, why on earth would I be seeing another woman? When on earth would I? We live together, we work in the same building. Why would I even entertain the thoughts of someone else?"

Hermione watched his eyes carefully. Something in her troubled gaze asked the invitation, and he silently complied. She Legilimised into his mind. She saw his day to day life, working in the large Apothecary in Canberra, his relief to come home each evening like any other normal wizard.

She watched herself as his eyes followed her around a room as she chatted to her parents, or to colleagues. She felt his sweet satisfaction in the evenings when she brought him a cup of his favourite tea and snuggled against his chest as they watched Muggle television. She could feel his sadness at parting each morning as they went their separate ways to work, and his impatience to return home to her again.

And there it was, in a nutshell: the quiet, firm pleasure of hearing the sound of her Apparation, signaling her arrival home. His cautious, hopeful joy when she walked into the room, placing a careless kiss on his head, asking him about his day. Severus Snape wasn't looking at anyone else; he was too busy looking at her.

Hermione pulled away gently, as if loath to intrude on such a tender moment. Tears were in her eyes. "Then why don't you want me? Why haven't you come to me? Do you not feel desire for me?"

Severus regarded her for several seconds, as if marshaling his thoughts, then rose from his chair and laid his journal and glasses aside. Crossing to her, he took her right hand, and gently placed it against his groin. Hermione breathed in as she felt him, hard and hot and wanting. She looked up at him in confusion. "Then why – "

"I'm like this almost constantly around you, Hermione." He lowered his gaze, to where her hand gently rubbed against the tented placket of his trousers. His voice was husky. "I want you. Merlin, I want you! But I'm not going to force you to do anything out of obligation or pity or compassion."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. All this time, she had felt like the clumsy, inexperienced girl he no longer desired. It seemed once again, they were at cross purposes, and she told him so.

"Severus, there are nights I am awake until four in the morning, trying to get up the nerve to come to you. It's not about pity or obligation. Merlin, what nonsense! I want you because you are my best friend and an incredible lover, and I want us to be a proper couple."

He dark eyes sought hers. "Be sure, Hermione. I'm no good at casual relationships." He scoffed at himself. "I'm no buggering good at relationships, full stop. I only know this."

He took her in his arms and for a heart-stopping moment Hermione was sure he was going to kiss her. "Hermione, if I take you, it will be forever. I think we both learned one thing about me during your time at Spinner's End. If I want something, I'll do anything to keep it. I won't let you go."

He lowered his head to kiss her, and at that moment, an owl crashed into the Wilkins' patio door, breaking the glass and injuring the bird. Hermione vanished the broken glass while Severus repaired the door and mended the owl's wing.

Once the drama was over, Hermione unfolded the parchment that had been attached to the owl's leg. Her hand was shaking so much she could hardly unroll the paper. She and Severus, their heads touching, saw the words on the parchment, and for the moment, kisses and sex were forgotten.

The note read: Hello, is this the Wilkins Family that used to live in 938 Violet Close, Sutton Surrey in England? If so, I have a message for someone you may know: Hermione Granger.

The letter was from Charlie Weasley, who, it seemed, had received a letter from Ron during the year Ron, Harry and Hermione had been on the run. He wrote the letter after just leaving her and Harry, and escaping from the Snatchers. "Ron wrote Charlie a letter?" Hermione mused, and at the sound of her voice, another parchment magically separated from the first. It was a copy of Ron's letter to his older brother.

She started to read it aloud, but tears made her vision swim and her voice quaver to the point that Severus took the parchment from her trembling hands, and read it to her, his voice dignified and heavy with respect for the dead.

Dragon man,

I have an owl waiting, and this is the only parchment I've got, so I'll say goodbye for now. I just wanted you to know I'm alive. If anything happens to the three of us, you may want to look up some people in Australia by the name of Wilkins. And tell Mum and Dad and the family I love them. They're the reason I'm still trying to fight. That's all I can say about it. Take care, and good luck. Youngest brother

Hermione wept against Severus' shoulder. Bless Ron; for some reason, he had mentioned Hermione's parents' names in the letter to Charlie, who had put two and two together and started searching. It couldn't have been an easy task; Wilkins was a common name.

It was a bittersweet moment for Hermione; reading the letter; Ron's clumsy attempt to hide his identity; seeing his fear that he would not survive, and how sorrowful he felt for abandoning them. In that one letter, Hermione relived those dark days on the run. It was like hearing his voice again, and even though she smiled through her tears, that night Severus heard her crying in her room. He stood outside, staring at her door for almost five minutes, squared his shoulders, and walked in.

In the light of the moon, he saw her lying in her bed. When she spied his tall figure silhouetted in the doorway, she held her arms out to him like a child, and he sat on the bed and held her until her grief spent itself into emptiness.

And so it was that Ronald Weasley, who had never truly been given a proper, befitting eulogy, was finally laid to rest that night, by a former Death Eater and his former slave, in a modest ranch house next to a golf course in Canberra.

The two of them rose the next morning ready to fight again.

Several months before, they had heard whispers that Neville Longbottom and some of the other original members of the DA were still alive and living in Spain. Living in Australia had made it easy to not think of Europe and the rumours of the new Order of the Phoenix rising from the ashes. Charlie's letter seemed to validate that report, and he'd been charged to find out if Hermione's parents knew anything of her whereabouts.

Within a week, the wheels were set in motion. Hermione sent a return owl to Charlie via a third-party postal service he'd suggested. Both sides were still unsure if they could trust the other; Hermione and Severus were still considered accessories to murder, but Severus' defection from the Upper Echelon of the Death Eaters was now a well-known fact, and served only to cloud the waters.

A very cautious network of meetings were arranged through, of all people, Pansy Parkinson, whose family had defected six months after the Night of Screams, and emigrated to America.

Finally, Severus and Hermione met Neville in Romania, under the watchful eye of his bodyguard, none other than Charlie Weasley.

They met in the JW Marriott Grand, a Muggle hotel in Bucharest. It was the most neutral territory; Hermione was terrified that Charlie might use this as a cover to ambush them with a vendetta over Ron. Even after the letter, she was still frightened of the long arm of the Wealseys.

When Severus answered the knock on the door, Charlie immediately rushed past him and flung his arms around Hermione, crying, "Oh, little Granger! Thank Merlin you're alive! We'd heard –" He looked from the young woman in his arms to Severus' glowering face, and decided to censor his answer. "All sorts of nasty rumours."

Hermione, so happy to see friends again, spent the next hour catching up, often turning to Severus to include him. Charlie watched their body language carefully, as he'd been asked to do. They were a couple, that was for sure; it was written all over them; it showed in Hermione's constant attempt to draw Snape into the conversation, and Snape's own disintegrating effort to keep a distance.

He eyed Charlie warily, as if afraid the handsome dragon handler would try to seduce Hermione out from under him. He was as sullen and watchful as Charlie remembered from his own school days, but underneath was a fierce protectiveness for the young woman in his charge.

Finally, after some unseen signal, there came a knock on the door, and Neville Longbottom and Pansy Parkinson strode in. Severus was shocked to see the changes in Longbottom. Gone was the gawky, awkward near-Squib that had melted more cauldrons in his first three years at Hogwarts than the remaining student population had in Severus' entire career.

This solemn young man carried himself like a soldier, his eyes bright and calm. He hugged Hermione solemnly, and said to her quietly, "It's alright, Hermione. I know you did everything you could to keep them alive."

Hermione wept openly, and to the surprise of everyone in the room, Severus included, she turned to him and buried her head against his shoulder. "See, Severus? I told you Neville would understand! They still believe in me!"

He tried to comfort her. "Of course they would, Hermione. You are innocent." He glared at Neville as if to rebuke him for making Hermione cry, and Neville blinked. Severus felt absurdly pleased, knowing he could still intimidate with the best of them.

Finally, as Hermione quieted, Neville cleared his throat and said, "Well, I guess we all know why we're here. We need to know the truth. Not what people say happened, but what really happened, from the horses' mouths, so to speak." He withdrew two vials. Unapologetically, he looked at the two fugitives.

"I know you're on the run from You-Know-Who. But I have to know I can trust people, and sometimes I have to do it in ways that I don't like but are necessary. This," he said, indicating the two vials, "is some of the most potent Veritaserum on the market today. Absolutely fail-proof, completely effective. No one has been able to fight it." Neville looked at Hermione levelly. "Whenever you are ready."

"I'll take this on one condition, Neville." Hermione stole a glance at Severus, who looked on impassively, with an underlying resentment in his eyes.

Neville looked at Charlie, then at Pansy, who shrugged. She tried to smile at her former Head of House, but he was looking at Hermione.

Neville sighed, "Hermione, it's this way or nothing. I have to know who to trust – "

"I understand that, Neville, and I will answer any question about the Night of Screams, but I don't want to be asked anything about the week that followed it." She looked from Severus back to Neville. "That is very personal between Severus and me and has no bearing on the events that came before."

Neville took a deep breath, then nodded, Gryffindor to the core. "Agreed." He turned to his former Headmaster. "Professor, do you agree to this? With the same conditions?"

For a moment, Severus was tempted to confess exactly what had taken place between the two of them. He would be jailed for it, but perhaps that was his penance. He had put her through so much; even now he had difficulty forgiving himself.

"He has the same conditions, or we walk." Severus shot a glance at Hermione, who was looking at him sternly. "That's none of their business, Severus, and it serves no useful purpose."

"Agreed." Neville nodded, only wanting to get on with this part of things. He hated not being able to take a person at face value, and this was the ugly manifestation of the forced mistrust he had to live with. It would, Hermione knew, never sit well with him, and that alone would make him the best champion.

Ten minutes later, Severus and Hermione walked the other three people through the last two days of Ron's and Harry's lives. They left out nothing, having drilled one another to remember everything that had been done to them. At one point, Charlie produced a Pensieve, and the five of them stepped into the alley in Canterbury together.

Severus and Hermione held hands as they saw the entire scene play out, from the arrival of the two Death Eaters to Malfoy's incantation to the capture and execution of Hermione's two best friends – the last hope of Wizarding Britain against the Dark Lord. It was hellish to revisit it, and by the end all save one person in the room was in tears. Only Pansy Parkinson remained dry-eyed.

Finally, another silent signal passed between Neville and the others, and they stood. "Thank you. As you can no doubt understand, we have to be on the move. Can't afford to stay in one place. I suggest you two get back to sunny Oz and wait. I promise you I'll be in touch. In the meantime, stay in Australia; this is our fight now, and we don't need you two risking your lives unnecessarily. Right now, we're winning; when it's over, I'll see that you two are restored to your proper place on the chessboard. When we win, your testimony will be more important than ever."

Hermione beamed. "You know what, Neville? It feels damn good hearing you say 'when we win', not 'if we win'."

Neville gave her another hug. "Harry and Ron won't have died in vain, Hermione. I promise you."

Charlie interjected, "We'll have to corroborate your testimony with Lucius Malfoy's, of course, but I don't think it'll be a problem." He grinned. "He's still wearing some pretty heavy glamour, you know, Professor."

He winked at Severus, who allowed himself a smirk. His encounter with Lucius shortly before he and Hermione left England was his only deviation from their agreement of not discussing events after the Night of Screams. Apparently, Malfoy had eventually recovered his memory, but the words carved in his forehead with the charmed dagger were permanent, and had to be magically concealed.

As Neville and Charlie prepared to leave, Pansy approached Severus with a smile. "It's good to see you again, Professor."

Severus nodded. "It is good to see you working for the side of the Light, Miss Parkinson. However, I am no one's professor anymore. Please call me Severus."

"Then I insist you call me Pansy, Severus." Pansy eyed him coolly. Her smile was not at all to Hermione's liking, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The attractive Slytherin hadn't noticed; she was too busy trying to flirt with Severus.

She preened. "We all travel separately to avoid detection and I'm going to be the last to leave tonight. Perhaps we could meet for dinner; say, seven o'clock?"

Severus looked uncomfortable. "I appreciate your offer, but Hermione is quite tired. I think it's best – "

"I wasn't suggesting that she join us, Severus," Pansy said, looking into his eyes. "I thought you and I could spend a little time catching up." She gave him a frank look of invitation. "Now that we are longer professor and student, perhaps you and I could get better acquainted." She flicked her eyes dismissively toward Hermione. "Alone."

Hermione felt a swift, stabbing jealousy that made her want to hex Pansy into next week. Instead, she looked at Severus, who returned her look with the same bland coolness he reserved for most of the world. Rather than make a fool of herself in front of this Pureblood bitch, Hermione turned away. She was not his keeper. He was free to do as he pleased –

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Miss Parkinson. I do not wish to go anywhere with you alone. I am in love with Miss Granger, and as soon as I return to Australia, I plan on asking her father for her hand in marriage."

Hermione felt as if her stomach had just dropped onto the floor. "You do? You're in love with me?"

As if embarrassed to be making these intimate declarations in public, he said through clenched teeth, "I am. I want us to be married when we return to Canberra."

Hermione and Severus finally bade the trio from England goodbye, much to Pansy's seething resentment, and Neville and Charlie's delight. They promised another meeting in a week's time to discuss strategy and planning, and wished the couple a safe trip back to Australia and their heartfelt congratulations on their impending engagement.

When the door to the hotel room finally closed on Hermione and Severus, she locked and warded it within an inch of their lives. Severus had remained silent since his astonishing declaration.

Finally, Hermione turned to him. Swallowing, she said in a voice husky with emotion, "Did you mean all of that, or were you just trying to get rid of her? Because if you don't mean it, that was really cruel –"

Severus grasped her arms, albeit gently, and gave her a little frustrated shake. "Granger, need I remind you I've just taken the most potent Veritaserum in existence? Do you think I would have spouted our private affairs to those Gryffindor boys and Pansy Bloody Parkinson if I was able to control my ability to keep my mouth shut?"

Hermione felt a shiver pass through her body, and it made her tingle. A lovely smile brightened her face, making Severus' heart swell. Impulsively he confessed, "I do love you, Hermione. Do you return my feelings?"

Hermione laughed. "You know I do! Still Slytherin to the core; using the Veritaserum I took to winkle out answers from me!"

For a moment, they gazed into one another's eyes, then Severus lowered his mouth to hers. They kept their eyes open, searching, finding the truth of their first kiss as true lovers. It was a soft, warm kiss, and their lips fit against each other's as if they'd been made to fit together. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, and Severus broke the kiss reluctantly.

"Are you sure, Hermione?"

She nodded, stroking his face. "Do you want this, Severus?"

To her surprise, he laughed. "Merlin, yes! I'm afraid I'll die if I can't touch you."

She smiled. "Then you're going to live forever, Severus Snape."

Looking down into her amber eyes, he saw everything he'd ever hoped to see in a woman's eyes; hope, love, desire, acceptance, all riding on an undercurrent of raw arousal. It excited him like nothing ever had, and he pulled her into his arms and plundered her gorgeous mouth, moaning loudly in his throat as her small hands clasped the back of his neck and brought him hard against her.

Each kiss was new and intoxicating; each was a token of trust, a gesture of care, a benediction for the past eighteen months of careful candor and dedication to one another. Severus' tongue slid between her lips, and she suckled it until he pulled away, his eyes glazed with desire.

This time, when Hermione rolled into his arms like quicksilver, he accepted her hungrily, his mouth fused against hers, pulling their Muggle clothing from their bodies and laying her down on the hotel bed.

He looked down at the young witch he'd used so callously all those months ago, and for a moment, he felt that shame of the things he'd done. Hermione saw it immediately and shook her head. Feverishly, she pulled him down to cover her with his body. "No, don't think of that. Never think of that again. I want this, Severus. I need this." Her eyes were bright, and her lips very wet. "Severus, I want you inside of me. I'm aching for you. It's worse than any lust potion."

He saw the love and desire in her eyes, and he pressed against her, crooning, "That's because it's real. My sweet girl, I'll give you whatever you want. Anything, as long as you love me." He was already parting her thighs, feeling the hot, slick juices preparing the way for him, and between the feel of her warm, anxious body and the delicious scent of her, he could no longer wait. As he pushed into her that first, exquisite time, he whimpered her name, and it turned into a growl of pleasure so feral it almost made Hermione come during that first deep, solid thrust.

There was no need for slow seduction, although Severus was careful. They made love slowly at first, and their bodies remembered each other in ways that delighted them both. Hermione was his banquet, and Severus feasted on her as he first devoured, then consumed her. Hermione was scorched by his level, burning gaze, and when he gave into the pleasure of her body, finally letting go of the control he'd held in check since their last day at Spinner's End, the sheer beauty of it overwhelmed Hermione.

This was not the man who left England, hiding her and helping her escape. This was the man who had helped her restore her parents to her, who snuggled with her at night, who comforted her when she had nightmares, who was so happy to see her at the end of the day. This was the man she loved, and how ever she had come to love him was no longer important to Hermione Granger. The only thing important was here now, hearing him say he loved her, and that he wanted her.

She keened her pleasure into the room, and Severus closed his eyes. He had forgotten how intensely vocal she was when truly aroused, and it excited him more than he thought possible. He knew he wouldn't last long. Her cunt was so hot and tight, and it pulsed around him like a mouth, sucking him, making him shiver and gasp with the intense pleasure of it.

Suddenly, she moaned into his ear, "Severus, please, faster.... oh, fuck, harder, please, Severus, gods, now!" With a triumphant roar, he hooked his hands around her shoulders and drove her hard into the mattress, crying out his love to her with each deep thrust.

He could feel her warm sheath quivering, preparing, as he gave her body what she asked of him, but he could feel his control going, and it would soon be too late to stop it. "Come for me, Hermione..." he whispered in her ear, his voice light and silvery sweet. "Come for me, oh, gods, I can't stop it... I'm coming in you..."

His strokes became lightning fast, hard, slapping pounding thrusts, and Hermione reveled in each torturous, driving snap of his hips. Her orgasm burst from her, sending pleasure through her like jagged flashes of electricity, and as she pulsed around him, Severus came with a howl of pleasure that made Hermione answer him with a searing cry of her own.

It didn't seem possible to come this hard for this long, and Severus shuddered as he tried to keep from crushing Hermione into the soft bedding. They were both panting like wild animals, bathed in sweat and trembling from their union. Severus searched Hermione's face for any sign of pain or discomfort, but all he saw was a lovely young woman, her wild hair tangled and spread over the pillow, her face flushed with a sheen of sweat. Her mouth was open as she gasped for breath, and her eyes were positively glowing with satisfaction. She was the most beautiful sight.

And most importantly, she'd chosen him.

They were sitting on a screened porch, watching lovely little iridescent frogs clinging to the mesh, listening to the myriad sounds of an Australian summer night. Magical fireworks were blooming in the sky, lighting up the night in swathes of colour and music. The world was celebrating the death of Voldemort, and the hero Neville. They watched, for the first time, as spectators, and it felt wonderful..

Hermione lay on a chaise lounge, propped up by several pillows and a Cushioning Charm. Her husband, kneeling on the porch beside her, ran his large, gentle hands sensuously over her enormous belly, stopping occasionally to place a slow, warm kiss on the mound that nourished and protected his child.

The screen door opened; his mother-in-law walked onto the porch, carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade; she smiled at their total absorption in one another, poured the pale liquid into two tall, frosty glasses, and left them without a word. The screen door slammed behind her with a faint creak and a soft clap. They ignored it.

Severus handed his wife one of the chilled glasses, and Hermione drank it thirstily, as he placed both hands on her huge belly and caressed it, covering it with more kisses, completely enthralled by his tender ministrations. She was ripe and glowing, and her pregnancy had been joyous for both of them. Hermione had shocked Severus; she'd been the randiest little minx he'd ever seen. Who knew a pregnant woman could be so incredibly sexy?

Hermione sighed; what he was doing felt lovely, but it also stirred her, and reminded her that she was too far along for fun and games at this point. Don't, don't... In truth, she adored his worship of her body; her mother had confided that her father had been almost the same way when she was carrying Hermione. It went a ways toward making up for morning sickness and swollen ankles.

"You're going to miss that when it's gone," Hermione grumbled good-naturedly, nodding at the massive protrusion being fondled by her husband. "Merlin, I never thought I'd ever be jealous of my own stomach."

Instead of answering, Severus drew slow, sensuous circles over her rounded belly, and whispered, "Less than nine months old and your mummy's already trying to get rid of you, little one. I suppose you're just going to have to gird your loins and come out and see us." He looked at his wife, cautious hope in his eyes. "No one can harm you now."

Hermione touched his arm, where only the faintest shadow remained of the Dark Mark that had once caused him to weep with pain during their early days in Australia. Two days before, they had both watched in sick fascination as it faded away to a smudge; they had known the happy news of Voldemort's defeat before the rest of the world found out, hours afterward.

Pressing his ear close to her, so that only Hermione's body lay between his face and that of his unborn child's, Severus murmured, "New life. That foul, loathsome creature is gone. New life – the chance to create a new world for us."

As Severus caressed his beloved wife, he said, "I love you, so much, girl." He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers.

Hermione enjoyed his slow, sweet kiss, pulling away reluctantly. "And I love you, Baby Daddy." He grimaced at the nickname, but he did not rebuke her. He'd brought it on himself.

Making love to a pregnant Hermione was the most delicious sex Severus had ever experienced. Something about her rounded belly, her glowing face, and her raging hormones kept him in a perpetual state of arousal around her. They had both been randy and insatiable right up until the day the mediwitch midwife had marked the large red "X" on the calendar as their cutoff date for sex.

In all his life, Severus Snape had never been so grateful for Silencing Charms. He'd never heard her scream so loudly, or made her come so intensely, or been so embarrassed at something he'd said in the throes of passion. She had never let him live it down.

Tucking a stray black hair behind his ear, Hermione said, "Now, help this upturned turtle get on its feet." She struggled to sit up, and Severus obligingly pulled her onto her feet.

Hermione smiled up at her husband's homely, yet handsome countenance. "Now, I think you need to call the midwife. You've nagged the poor baby enough, and he's planning his jailbreak."

Severus stared at her for a moment. Then blinked. "Hermione – "

She grinned and chuckled at the dawning understanding on his face. "The contractions started this morning, but now they mean business." She leaned forward and kissed him again. "Let's go get this new world started."

Severus closed his eyes. He was going to be a father soon. It was the greatest accomplishment of his life, and he was grateful for it, as grateful as he was for his wife, his son, his family, his freedom - his life. He walked into the house to tell his mother-in-law the news, his heart as light as his beloved Hermione; as clean as his unborn child's.

He had got everything he wanted.