Nineteen: The Dimming Of The Day

Anti-Litigation Charm: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to JK Rowling, who let my entire reason for reading the Harry Potter series bleed to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. I'm building a better world.

I'm living for the night we steal away, I need you at the dimming of the day

Severus awoke, as usual, in the final darkness of the approaching dawn. He had disciplined his body to always know the time of day, and to come fully awake in an instant. It had come in handy as a youth, hiding from bullies – and his own drunken father. It had been even handier as a spy; he could not be ambushed in the night.

He had taught himself to awaken without change to his breathing or movement; it had been invaluable in learning secrets from those who still thought him asleep and therefore unaware. It had saved someone's life once...

It was also completely unnecessary at this moment, in this bed, but habit and practice are hard masters to defy, and he was sure that the figure watching him carefully had no idea he was now awake, fully cognizant of her careful scrutiny.

It would have amused and dismayed Severus to know that Hermione did sense the second he awoke - not because of any external change, but because his thought patterns ramped up and burst into her mind. He heard her sigh, a sweet, contented, sleepy sound, and she burrowed back down against his shoulder with a satisfied little coo. Her warm, smooth body melted against his, and he felt his treacherous cock stir. What was more, she felt it, too, and a small, slender hand closed around his shaft and stroked him appreciatively.

Hermione felt the hot, rigid flesh of his rapidly inflating cock bloom in her hand, and she moved against it the way he had shown her a few short hours ago, before sleep had finally claimed them. He had been quietly instructive, showing her how he wanted her to slide her palm over the head, and twist her wrist as she stroked upward. When she had asked to learn how to suck him until he climaxed, he had smiled and kissed her, a look of stunned gratitude fleeting across his face. "Later," he promised, and something about the way he muttered that single word made her body hum.

Now, as Hermione lazily stroked and petted her husband, he groaned and stirred, and stretched like a long, slender cat, shuddering as his muscles reached their longest length and settled back to normal.

"Good morning," he rumbled.

Hermione looked up at his sleepy face and smiled. He looked disheveled and needed a shave. He was also completely sated and smug, and his lips were soft and warm against her forehead.

"Good morning, Severus. Are you hungry?" she said, a little abashed to be speaking to him so casually, while still playing with his cock. He must have shared similar thoughts, as a smirk played about his lips.

"Sustenance would be agreeable. However, wife," he said, slowly rolling her onto her back, "I find myself hungering for something more... readily accessible." He kissed a puckered nipple gently, almost gingerly. "Are you tender this morning?" he asked.

Hermione moved, wincing as several sore muscles and tender areas made themselves known. "A little, I'm afraid," she admitted.

Severus stroked her cheek, and sighed. "I had feared as much." Reaching for his wand, he commanded, "Accio Pain Potion!"

A small bottle of dark brown liquid flew into his hand. Severus uncorked it and, to Hermione's surprise, tipped it into his own mouth. Black eyes met amber, and Hermione heard his thoughts effortlessly. Open up, little one. She held herself very still as Severus pressed his lips to hers and forced the potion into her mouth.

As his tongue parted her lips, she swallowed, and the aches immediately changed into a rather pleasant warmth, deep in the tissues of her body. She gave a little hum of pleasure as Severus teased her tongue, his own slippery, velvety muscle sliding against hers, swiping against the roof of her mouth. His teeth gently nipped her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, arousing her with the talents he brought to bear.

Their bodies pressed against one another's, Severus sensuously lowering his mouth to her satiny throat, planting feather-light kisses against her skin. His long, clever fingers fondled her breasts, coaxing her nipples taut, in anticipation of his warm, wicked tongue. Hermione shivered as his mouth closed in, sucking as relentlessly as a baby, planting the sweetest of kisses on her pearly flesh. A satisfied moan of pleasure slipped from his throat. A fingernail gently scratched the tip of her nipple, and she gasped at the sensation.

Her husband smiled. In the most sinful tone of voice, he purred, "Delicious little witch. I'm going to devour you."

Over the next two days they hardly strayed from one another's side. Hermione even followed him into the shower, fondling him as they bathed one another. It was strangely easy to get used to.

His wedding night had been a revelation to Severus, in more ways than one. He had always privately scoffed whenever Lucius expounded on the value that pureblood wizards always placed on virginity. Severus, coming from a lower class of people, knew from experience that girls in neighbourhoods like Spinner's End took to sex rather early in their lives. It was enjoyable, and for the most part free if they were careful; there were precious few pleasures afforded to them otherwise.

The knowledge that Hermione had come to his bed unbroken awoke something new in him, something elemental and proprietary. He had to reluctantly admit he could now appreciate the cachet of the virgin bride.

Having given Hermione her first taste of physical love, Severus was delighted by her self-proclaimed 'enthusiasm'. She was charmingly uninhibited, blessedly vocal, and completely dedicated to the pursuit of learning his body, applying the same level of intense scholarship to this subject as she had always given to all academic pursuits. In those first days, given lavish attention and orgasm after earth-shattering orgasm, she had almost become his slave.

When she realised how much Severus enjoyed simply watching her, Hermione took to walking around the house naked, sealing the house with warming charms to keep comfortable. Severus' gaze followed her everywhere; he reached out to caress her as she brushed past him. Sitting with her, fully dressed, while she lounged indolently on his lap, was the epitome of erotic self-indulgence to him, and her lovely, beautifully responsive body was a playground the likes of which he'd never even so much as allowed himself to fantasize about.

Let the Malfoys and their ilk sneer at those beneath them; in this private haven, Severus was a king, with a loving, willing bride as eager as he to explore their mutual sensuality.

The first time Hermione had knelt at his feet and freed his straining cock from his trousers, Severus had felt like the most decadent of men, especially when she looked up into his face with sensuality and coy innocence, saying, "I will perform to the best of my ability, but I always welcome instruction, dear professor."

With more patience and teaching skill than he'd ever shown in the classroom, Severus had proceeded to instruct her in the fine art of fellating him. She had ever been a quick study, and if his shuddering, roaring climax was any indication, the tutelage had been well received He was acutely embarrassed how quickly his orgasm had seared through him, leaving him gasping, panting, unable to speak as her clever mouth and hands had reduced him to a moaning wreck. "What – how – " he gasped, trying to make his blood-starved brain work, "How am I supposed to believe you've never done that before?"

With a wicked grin, Hermione grabbed her wand. "Accio toy box!" Into her hand flew the small box that she had taken from her parents' room. "I had these for reference."

After she solicitously buttoned his trousers and climbed into his lap, she enlarged the little box and opened it. Severus stared dumbfounded at the sheer number of books and other items within. He looked back at his wife, his eyebrow raised in question.

With a charming little blush, Hermione replied, "These were my mother's. She always said that sex was supposed to be wonderful and a thing to be enjoyed between couples. She told me there were three things I needed to do to be a good lover."

"Did she now?" Severus smirked, stroking her thighs, making his witch wriggle enticingly on his lap. "Pray enlighten me, Madame Granger-Snape."

Squealing a little, as his long fingers teased and stroked her silky skin, Hermione breathlessly replied, "She said that I needed to be fearless, be specific, and go with my instincts, because some things are just natural and don't need to be taught. Everything else can be learned or researched with books."

"She said that?"

Hermione ducked her head. "Well, not the last bit. I figured that out for myself." She turned in his lap until she was straddling him. "I do realise that not everything can be found in books, but it's a good starting point."

"Indeed, Miss Granger," he intoned, putting on his 'professor's' voice.

For the better part of the next hour, they read through several of the books together, pausing at a particularly athletic-looking variation, or stopping to allow Severus to nuzzle against her all but edible neck. As they looked at the illustrations, his fingers found the warm, wet haven between her thighs, and she closed her eyes. Silkily, he murmured, "I must admit, these are quite informative, my pet."

The book slid, forgotten, to the floor. "But there is much to be said for hands-on instruction." Her hips began to move against his knowing, skilled fingers. His voice was light and honeyed. "I hope there are still some areas in which I may educate you. I do so enjoy this aspect of teaching." Hermione was rocking against him, her arms clasped behind his neck, giving into his clever ministrations. He could feel her body giving in. "Ah, yes, are you ready for your next lesson, Miss Granger?"

"Yes! Yes, Severus!" she cried out, her orgasm imminent, and he slipped his already rigid cock into her body just as her climax gripped her. They cried out together as the walls of her cunt milked and sucked his cock like an eager mouth.

"That's what I want, Lass," he growled, lust roughening the edges of his voice. "Ride my cock," he moaned, using his hands to guide her, until she found her rhythm against his lap. She gripped the back of the chair, and he laved and sucked her dusky, proud nipples as she moved over him, her hips snapping wildly as her second orgasm took them both over the edge.

Severus sat back, gasping, reveling in her delicious body, its responsiveness in her desire for him. It made him feel like a younger, less jaded man. And it was very gratifying that he was still able to teach her things her mother's books had not.

At times they would make love until their magic freed itself. It was impossible to predict when it would happen or how to prevent it. It seemed to be during those moments when they were at their most carnal, their most feral. They would be tearing at each other, their bodies pounding together, when their magic would snap from its moorings to pierce and saturate them. When it happened, it was frightening and exhilarating, and ultimately, it was healing.

On the third morning after their wedding, Severus rolled over to get out of bed, when he heard Hermione gasp behind him. "Severus! Your back!"

"What's wrong with it?" He replied sleepily, still dozy and busting for a wee.

Hermione scrambled off the bed, an expression of wonder and shock on her face. "You need to look at this, Severus."

Alarmed, Severus allowed her to lead him to the loo. He summoned a mirror and faced away from the full length mirror, holding the second mirror in his hands. Hermione approached him gently, and shook her head. "I don't believe it." She smiled. "Did we do that?"

Peering closely, Severus examined the roadmap of scars on his back. They had faded. Not vanished, but faded. The large, ropy scars inflicted by the Dark Lord's enchanted whip were now just thin, silvery threads running over his skin. Some of the smaller, less prominent ones were all but invisible now. His pale skin glowed with health.

He turned to his wife, and drew her into an embrace. "Love," he choked, unable to fully comprehend what had happened. "Love." Hermione kissed him and stroked his back, telling him how much she loved him.

On day four, Narcissa Malfoy came to visit them, her sister Bellatrix Lestrange in tow, and the honeymoon was over.

The wards shimmered that evening, just as they had finished dinner and were starting dessert. Hermione dashed up the stairs to dress. From their bedroom, Hermione felt the wards drop enough to allow the guests to pass through. As the door opened, she heard the imperious, aloof voice of Narcissa Malfoy greet her husband, her tone stilted and formal.

Following quickly behind her was the harsher, coarser tones of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Where's your little slave, Severus? Shagged out? Lazy cow. No stamina, these little Mudblood whores."

"Bella, please!" Narcissa hissed, a pleading, desperate tone in her voice. "I'm sorry, Severus, I'm not here to display my sister's lack of manners."

Bellatrix scoffed, her scornful snort full of contempt. "Bad manners? She's the one keeping us waiting, Cissy!"

Hermione felt her spine stiffen. Bad manners? She'd show this pureblood bitch who had manners. Quickly she donned a simple set of midnight blue robes, and after murmuring Severus' hair calming spell, she squared her shoulders, ready to face the enemy.

Calmly walking down the stairs, Hermione crossed the room to stand by Severus, whom she saw was barely holding his temper in check. She smiled at him demurely. "Sir, I thought I heard voices. Hello, Madam Malfoy, Madam Lestrange."

Narcissa gave her a brief nod, and Bellatrix snorted again. Pretending not to notice, Hermione said, "I was just going to fetch my Master a glass of wine. May I bring you a glass as well, ladies?"

"Sure," Bella said, bored already.

"That is most kind, thank you," Narcissa replied formally, clearly wanting to speak to Severus alone.

Severus gave Hermione's arm a little squeeze, and she went into the kitchen and made a production of transfiguring three goblets from their ordinary water glasses. She searched through the kitchen drawers but, finding no corkscrew, removed the cork with a twist of her wand. She transfigured a decanter and poured the wine in it, thinking with a smirk how offended the Black sisters would be if they knew they were about to be offered a rather inferior plonk she and Severus had found in the clearance bin and bought simply because they both fancied the idea of drinking a wine called Old Git.

She found a battered tin tray and transfigured it to look a little more formal. Balancing the decanter and the glasses on it, Hermione walked gracefully into the front room, just as Bella was taunting Severus. "You don't have the juice, Severus! All you've ever done was pretend to be on the winning side, whichever side that was this week!"

"Bella, please hush!" said Narcissa. She turned beseeching eyes on Severus. "Please, Severus. For our old friendship." Her lovely blue eyes filled with tears. "Draco is my life. He isn't ready for this – "

"He should get down on his knees and thank the Dark Lord for this glorious chance to prove his loyalty!" Bella cried. Hermione saw the psychosis in the woman's lidded eyes. In that moment, Hermione feared her more than the Dark Lord. Bella was, in the immortal words of Hermione's late father, as mad as a spoon.

"Enough, both of you!" Severus hissed. "Narcissa, you come to my home during my holiday, dragging Bella with you. You ask me to assist Draco, while Bella shouts to anyone who will listen how untrustworthy I am. Very bad manners, both of you."

Hermione unobtrusively sat the tray on a nearby table and handed around the wine glasses. For a moment, the three of them stood in a triangle, with Hermione on the periphery, waiting for one of them to speak. She was sure she'd missed something terribly important.

With a voice so buttery it slid over the skin of the three women like oil, Severus replied, "Of course, I will do whatever I can to assist Draco at his task. It is imperative that he not fail our Lord." With a haughty gesture, he drew Hermione to his side, pinching her earlobe possessively. "We are both committed to do whatever it takes to see to that end."

Hermione held the dark woman's gaze as Bella sauntered up to the couple. "Very lofty words, Severus. You always were a big talker." Bella stepped up close to Hermione, and reached out to stroke her cheek with a long, black-painted nail. "You and your little concubine are so committed." Hermione forced herself not to flinch or step back. Bella leaned in, her nail pressing into Hermione's cheek. She whispered, "I once scratched out the eyes of a little Mudblood. She wouldn't stop staring at me."

Hermione felt a cold anger slip over the surface of her skin, and leaned against Bellatrix's finger slightly, the beginnings of a sneer curling about her lips. If you want a catfight, Bella, Hermione thought, we'll have one.

Narcissa watched the exchange uneasily, until Severus grasped Hermione's upper arm and pulled her away. "Enough, Bella," he growled, and Hermione allowed him to pull her back into his chest. "I have said we will assist Draco. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to assume my holiday, ladies."

Bella, her eyes still fixated on Hermione, suddenly looked up at Severus. "Fine, then. If you're both so committed, prove it." She smiled evilly. "Make the Unbreakable Vow."

Narcissa looked up at Severus expectantly. Hermione felt him stiffen, and she smiled. Turning to her husband, Hermione lowered herself onto her knees. "Master, I agree with Madam Lestrange." She looked up into his obsidian eyes. Within her Occluded mind, she heard his soft voice. It is a moot point, my love, and we will now hold all the cards. The Dark Lord will never doubt me now – either of us, and Bella will look like a fool in the end no matter what happens.

Hermione could sense cautious triumph tinging his sober words. Bella had played right into their hands; it was the first piece of the puzzle they'd discussed and anticipated the day Hermione asked Severus to marry her. She wanted to shout with joy. Everyone was behaving exactly the way Severus had predicted.

Severus looked down his long nose at Bellatrix. He smiled, and his smile was horrible and beautiful. "Take out your wand, Bella. If you've got the juice."

When the deed was done, Severus became shuttered and distant, and finally the sisters left him and Hermione alone again.

He looked at his wife and sighed. "And so it begins." He looked out the window, staring unseeing at the decaying neighbourhood of his youth. "Don't you just love being right?" he asked, rhetorically.

Hermione joined him at the window, and they absently put their arms around each other. She leaned against his chest and sighed. "I knew this was inevitable, but now that it's done, I feel slightly sick."

Severus nodded, understanding her feelings completely. At last he had learned what Dumbledore had only hinted at obliquely. The Dark Lord, looking to revenge the Malfoys for Lucius' spectacular debacle at the Department of Mysteries, had charged Draco with the task of murdering Dumbledore. Voldemort obviously thought the boy incapable of carrying out the deed, just as Albus had. If Draco succeeded, the headmaster would be dead and the Malfoy reputation restored; if the boy failed, however, Draco would be killed as Lucius' punishment. As far as the Dark Lord was concerned, it was the ultimate win/win situation.

"How did Albus know this? Who told him?" Severus said, rubbing his cheek against his wife's hair. "That troubles me. How did the old man know?" He made a little snarling noise. "What else is the old fool not telling us?"

"Perhaps the curse is making him even more irrational than you originally thought," Hermione replied, equally puzzled. It made no sense whatsoever. "To tell the truth, I'm more worried about Bellatrix Lestrange. She scares the hell out of me."

Severus chuckled. "And that used to be my job." He slumped slightly, feeling drained and jumpy at once. "And it will be again, when school starts in September."

Hermione pressed closer, nuzzling against his shirt, enjoying the scent, the warmth of him. "I can't think about it right now," she said, rather petulantly. She looked up at her husband. "We've still got a little time left."

Severus looked down at her for a moment, then gently caressed her breast through her robes. She sighed and pushed against his hand contently. It still amused and moved Severus to see her so eager for his touch, so willing to give herself to him.

"And yet, you are still dressed, Madam Granger-Snape?" he drawled, a little half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Wordlessly, he spelled her clothing away, leaving her gasping in the cold. Severus took her hand and led her back into the front room, and lit a fire. "As much as I love to see these," he mused, his fingers brushing across her taut nipples, "goosebumps are not condusive to romance."

Hermione awarded him with a playful swat, and he sat down on the sofa. "Manners, my dear," he purred, and pulled her onto his thigh, forcing her to straddle one leg. She hissed, as her sensitive labia parted, and rough wool made contact with tender flesh. Severus smiled wolfishly. "Well, you're very warm here," he murmured, as she moved instinctively against the stimulation. His large hands encircled her waist, helping her to gain purchase against him.

Breathlessly, she laughed, "I'm going to ruin your trousers."

Severus, enthralled as this beautiful, delicious-smelling witch humped his leg with increasingly uninhibited abandon, sneered lecherously. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Panting, feeling that lovely, building tension, Hermione nodded. "Uh huh." She gave him a wicked little grin, and his cock twitched and throbbed.

"Then why on earth would I care what you did to my trousers, you dirty little witch?" He could see she was barely listening. Pleasure glowed in her face, and she looked absolutely beautiful.

Just as the edge of her orgasm brimmed underneath her skin, Hermione stopped, to Severus' disappointment, and leaned down, nuzzling his neck, making him shiver and gasp with desire. "I'm going to go upstairs now." she whispered in her ear, her lips ghosting against his skin. "I want you to join me in about fifteen minutes. I'm going to lie down on the bed and wait for you."

"Will you, now?" he purred, trying to hold her against his chest, but she was already pulling away, rising from his lap. She winked at him, which made his skin burn pleasantly. No one had ever winked at him like that. "And what will you be doing in those precious fifteen minutes it will take for me to wind my way upstairs, Lass?"

Hermione grinned again, and leaned down to kiss his lips softly. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" She looked pointedly down at his trouser leg and laughed breathlessly, "You do have the ability to make me want to do some rather shameless things."

Stirred and excited, Hermione walked up the stairs and into the loo. She wanted to be completely ready for him, and show him how much she wanted him. The evening had been a study in intensity; the Black sisters with their selfish, dark demands had left him edgy and upset, and Hermione felt the need to distract them both.

She smiled as she completed her ablutions. She wanted to surprise him, give him a reason to smile after what had happened. She wanted him to enjoy himself; she wanted to give him the pleasures he lavished so selflessly on her. The thought of what would happen when he came to her made her knees weak.

She lay down on their bed, feeling flushed and fevered and aching. He did that so easily to her now. One look; one kiss, and she was as helpless as a kitten in his large, skilled hands. Just the thought of his practiced, knowing fingers on her body made her tremble, and in response, her fingers drifted down her body. She smiled to herself as she imagined what he would do or say when he saw her...

Touching herself. It was the first thing Severus saw as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom. The sweet smell of sex reached his sensitive nose, and as he looked onto the bed, the waning light threw soft shadows across the planes of her body, bringing her lovely breasts in relief.

His breath caught. She had rouged her nipples.

Luscious little succubus, he marveled to himself. Lust and desire burst upon him like a wildfire, and his heartbeat thundered in his chest. For a moment, he held himself still, trying to master this dark, raging arousal. He simply stared at her, his sheer want for her making his chest ache.

Her head was turned to the side; she lay on his pillow, and the fingers of one hand gently plucked and teased her cherry-red nipples while her opposite hand danced over her glistening petals. Her eyes were closed, and the only sounds in the room were their harsh breathing, accompanied by the occasional soft whimper from the girl in his bed.

Silently, Severus removed his clothing and sat on the bed beside her. Hermione's eyes fluttered open; they were dark and glowing with passion. Severus stroked her soft face, and she nuzzled against his hand.

"Have you started without me, you wicked girl?" he said, his voice darkly sensuous. Hermione moaned softly, and nodded.

"I couldn't help myself. Everytime I think about you, I feel..." she whispered, and arched her back as his large hand palmed her rouged nipples. He hummed appreciatively.

"I see. And what have we here?" he purred, flicking the nipple with his finger. She made a little squeaking noise at the not-quite-painful sensation, and he hummed again. "Like little plump cherries."

His dark head swooped down and sucked hard on the little red nub, making Hermione cry out; a feral, raw sound of heat and need. He moaned deliriously as he mounted her. "Sweet. So sweet."

This time, he did not coax and tease her; they were too ready for each other, and his first long, slow push into her waiting body caused them both to hiss and thrash. Unable to stop himself, Severus withdrew almost completely from her body and plunged again, a growl of pleasure on his lips.

"Fuck, girl, you feel exquisite," he moaned, helpless to stop the words from bubbling to his lips. "You're the most marvelous witch I've ever had." Lewdly he rasped, "I love your little red tits, your tight, wet cunt. Utterly delicious." He thrust again, causing her to cry out as he nestled in deep, his wiry pubic hair teasing her clit. Hermione mewled softly, pulling at his shoulders, willing him to move.

"Can't you feel it, witch?" he growled, drunk with power. Another punishing thrust, another deep, nestling twist to bed himself deep within her as she hissed in pleasure. "Your pussy was made for me." His eyes fluttered closed. As he readied his body to drive her into the mattress, he moaned, "Nothing, no one has ever felt as good as this!"

"Even her?"

Shocked out of his debauched soliloquy, Severus' eyes flew open, and he looked down into the face of his witch, his wife. For a moment, Hermione thought he would be angry, but something in her eyes derailed it. It was uncertainty, lingering doubt, and the last vestiges of insecurity that softened his expression, and stilled his restless body. He rose on his elbows, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"We never... it wasn't like that with her." Severus lowered his gaze and sighed. "She never felt this way for me, though I refused to accept it for years." He looked up at the trusting, loving gaze of his wife. "She never wanted me. Not like this." He pressed against her body. "Not like you."

Hermione placed her small hands on his face. "Then she was a fool," she whispered into his mouth. "She was never meant for this. She didn't deserve this." Her legs slithered around his waist. "I want you. I want this. You are MINE."

Severus felt his body flush. A feeling of acceptance and relief ran through him, under his skin. It sang in the blood in his veins. "Yes."

He thrust against his wife again, and she cried out, "You feel so good. I love your body. You are beautiful, Severus!"

"Yes, yes, yes," he moaned, his eyes closed, feeling Hermione's body accepting him, wanting him, needing him.

She pulled him closer and kissed him feverishly. "I'm addicted to you. I'm a slave for you. You are the most beautiful man, the most beautiful, and the bravest, and the cleverest, and I love you with all my heart..."

"Yes!" he cried, and made love to her with all the latent ferocity he'd kept locked away, secreted in his heart. "Yes!" he sobbed, and Hermione looked up at him.

His face was a mask of rapturous intensity, as he cried "Yes!" over and over, with each increasingly deep, hard thrust, branding her, marking her forever as his, affirming over and over that he was worthy of her love, and loving no other save her. He felt his orgasm rushing down on him, and he came with a stifled protest, knowing he had come too soon; she had not yet climaxed.

He pulled from her, his cock still jerking, spitting the evidence of his selfish eagerness, and moved down the bed until he buried his mouth in her hot, dripping folds, thrusting his fingers, frantically locating the place she so loved for him to touch, to fondle, to ride. Her body, still undulating against him, was hot and her cunt was tight with anticipation. He could taste his own issue in his mouth but he didn't care. Nothing mattered but her now.

Her keening wail was music to him, and he felt her body leap beneath his skilled mouth and fingers. "Severus... yes... oh, fuck... I'm coming for you!" He held onto her as Hermione screamed her climax into the room. Ecstasy lanced through her body, overwhelming her in its painful intensity. She cried out his name over and over, as his fingers were gripped and clenched within her tight passage; her clit fluttered and spasmed beneath his grateful tongue.

"Yes," he called out, exultant. "Yes, my love." Breathless, they panted, and Severus collapsed against her vulnerable belly, kissing her silken skin, licking his lips and fingers and telling her over and over how beautiful, how fine she was.

"I love you," he sighed contentedly. Suddenly, he gave a short laugh, bouncing against her stomach. "What a fool I've been all these years, thinking those three words were the most frightening in the English language."

Even the greatest of honeymoons must come to an end, and thus, two weeks before the summer holidays were over, they made plans to return to the school. During that time, Severus informed Dumbledore of the vow he had made to Narcissa, and together they agreed that Severus would try to draw Draco into his confidence and uncover his plan, not to mention the boy's true feelings on the matter.

Severus was afraid for Draco; it both touched and exasperated Hermione to find that her husband was rather fond of the little ferret. She still regarded Draco as the worst kind of arse, but Severus sensed hidden depths in the young Slytherin, and Hermione forced herself to give him the benefit of the doubt, in spite of his taunts about 'passing her around.'

"You should know by now he was only trying to antagonize you," Severus said, rolling his eyes. "He's putting away childish things now, Hermione. If anything, I need you to help me find out what's going on in his head. As a fellow prefect, you may see things I won't."

Hermione felt dismayed that she would have to return to Gryffindor tower to resume her pretense of a normal life. She had thought of a way for them to sleep together for part of the night, by allowing her access to his quarters through the common room Floo, but Severus was skeptical that this would interfere with her rest. Still, Hermione insisted; she had grown used to sleeping with her husband, and nights without him would be unbearable.

They had also invented a story that would explain her absence over the summer, and her parents' disappearance. It had been Severus' idea, and Hermione thought it would work.

Dear Harry and Ron,

Love, Hermione

She signed with a flourish, which was a little difficult as her husband was kissing the nape of her neck. He stopped his delicious distraction long enough to read over the parchment as she finished addressing the envelope.

"'After Umbridge, anyone is an improvement'? You wound me, my dear," he drawled.

She smiled at him, sealed the parchment and told the owl, "The Burrow, Ottery-St.-Catchpole." The lovely owl gave her a rather imperious scowl, as if to remind her he knew perfectly well where the Burrow was.

As Hermione closed the window, the turned to find Severus staring moodily into the fireplace. A low flame burned in the grate; it really wasn't cold enough to be necessary, but Hermione enjoyed the relaxing nature of a fire, and in order to keep her healthy, happy and naked, Severus had been only too happy to oblige. Now, he looked anything but obliging.

"Severus?" When he didn't acknowledge her, Hermione sat down beside him. He sat forward, elbows on his knees, his chin propped in his hand. She touched his shoulder, tentatively. "Is something wrong?"

He looked at her solemnly. "In a few days time we return to Hogwarts, and it all begins." He turned back to the fire. "Here, I am Severus Granger-Snape, your husband, your lover. I'm not a Hogwarts teacher; I'm not a Death Eater; I'm not the Greasy Bat of the Dungeons."

"Severus – "

"We've been able to shut out the world here." He smiled regretfully, and it was the saddest smile Hermione had ever seen. "It was fine, wasn't it, Lass?" He took her head in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. "Tell me it was as sweet a dream to you as it was to me."

Hermione gasped, tears stinging her eyes. She knelt on the floor between his feet. "It's been beautiful, Severus! It has been the sweetest time of my life. But it's not over! It's not over forever!"

He pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her tightly to him, as if to shield her. "I want to believe it, Hermione. But I've never had anything precious that wasn't destroyed." He took a deep, shaking breath. "I'm frightened, Lass. I'm frightened that we're nearing the end of everything."

She tried to hold him, to comfort him, alarmed at the bleak, brittle, lifeless tone of his voice. She touched him soothingly, but he would not be consoled. "It's alright to be afraid, Severus. I'm terrified, but you're not alone. You will never be alone."

For a moment, he was quiet, but Hermione could feel him shudder. Beneath his dark exterior, the clothing he wore like protective armour, he trembled. "I know, Lass. I know I should be grateful for the few, precious hours we had together."

The despair in his voice was devastating, and something in Hermione died at the sound of it. He looked down at the floor, as if praying to hell. "I'm a selfish, greedy man, Hermione! I want this forever! Oh, Gods," he slumped, his passionate, painful outburst vanishing like the sun behind a cloud. "Sometimes I wish we could run away..." He looked at her with the bewildered look of a frightened child. He whispered, "I don't want to go back. I don't want to be the man I have to be there! I don't want to face them again."

"Oh Severus! My precious husband..." Hermione rocked him as he trembled, and as she held him, stroking his hair, she sang the song he taught her: "Lay me low, lay me low, lay me low, where no one can see me, where no one can find me, where no one can hurt me...."

He clung to her like a child in the dark. Deep within his soul, there was a numbing, grieving certainty that he would die during the battle, leaving behind his sweet girl. He had lost his first love to the darkness. He could not bear the thought of Hermione, alone without him, at the mercy of the Dark Lord. He couldn't bear the thought of her without him, full stop. He was jealous of the very air she breathed – how could he stand the thought of others touching her?

And let's be honest, Severus, he sneered inwardly. It's not her you're truly worried about, is it? You also can't stand the thought of being without her now. She's sewn herself underneath your skin, just as you wanted her to those months ago. You've gotten your wish, and now you can't live without her.

As she sang and soothed him like a mother comforting a child, he made the darkest decision of his life. He made a vow to himself, a silent oath to her.

When the time came, if the Dark Lord killed her, Severus would follow her into the beyond. He could not be without her, even in death. And before he would allow the Death Eaters to defile and destroy her, he would take her life himself. He would not let her be given over to his 'brothers' for their grisly sport. He would kill her, and then he would turn his wand on himself.

Opening lines are from "Dimming Of The Day" by Richard Thompson