Chapter 28

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the overwhelming response you have given me with your fabulous reviews. Please forgive me for not managing to answer them all.

I would like to send a special thank you to my reader, sshg316, whose keen eye and acute memory helped to identify and shut down a plagiarist, and another special thank you to the unrivalled Bambu, who taught me how to deal with the issue – and, while we're here, let me also send love and kisses to DeeMichelle and Minuet99, who held my hand and soothed me when I was rattled.

Have I introduced y'all to my betas, Keladry Lupin and LariLee, and my Brit-picker, MagicAlly? They collectively hung the moon and cause the stars to shine in the night sky.

These characters and this entire Potterverse are the property of the incomparable JKR.

Thou are not lovelier than lilacs, – no,

Nor honeysuckle; thou are not more fair

Than small white single poppies, – I can bear

Thy beauty; though I bend before thee, though

From left to right, not knowing where to go,

I turn my troubled eyes, nor here nor there

Find any refuge from thee, yet I swear

So has it been with mist, – with moonlight so.

Like him who day by day unto his draught

Of delicate poison adds him one drop more

'Til he may drink unharmed the death of ten,

Even so, inured to beauty, who have quaffed

Each hour more deeply than the hour before,

I drink – and live – what has destroyed some men.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Severus opened his eyes the next morning and realised there was a kink in his back. Shifting slightly, it dawned upon him that he was not in his bed. He sat up and rubbed his neck, grimacing at the discomfort. The night before, after leaving Hermione, he had come into the private library he had built for her and sat upon the love seat, permitting himself to daydream. He imagined being here with her, seeing the look on her face when he showed the room to her, sitting in the big armchair with her cradled in his lap whilst he read poetry to her, raising the hem on that flame-coloured negligee and tugging off her knickers and making love to her on the chaise lounge ...

Enough of that! He was meeting with his father-in-law-to-be this evening, and there were things to be done besides remembering how she had tasted when he kissed her mouth, and how she whimpered when he caressed her – important things he had to do – and how sweetly she returned his caresses, twining her fingers in the hair castigated by others as greasy, wriggling her bum deliberately in his lap while nuzzling his ear and whispering to him how attractive he was to her, how she had dreamt of him ever since their night in the cabin, how she had wanted him to hold her and kiss her and claim her for his own ...

He was never going to get anything done. All he was good for was lazing about like a love-sick moon-calf.

A love-sick moon-calf whose wife-to-be was waiting for him to come and see her this morning!

Moving with sudden speed, Severus strode into the bathroom to shower, shave, and prepare to meet his day – and his love.

---

Hermione awoke slowly, drifting from dreams into wakefulness with a self-satisfied purr and stretch, which would have done Crookshanks proud. The night before, Severus Snape had seized her and kissed her into utter senselessness and nothing had ever felt so divine. Whereas before she had been determined to win him as her husband and had bent all of her energy towards making that happen, now she was obsessed with him as a fire contorts into conflagration; he burned within her very blood as it coursed through her veins and she was utterly consumed by him.

Experimentally, she ran her hands over her form in its simple cotton nightdress, thinking of the ways he had stroked her and evoked such luscious sensations from her body, bringing about a dissolution of reason and igniting an inferno of the flesh that she had been unable to appease before falling into dreams as dominated by his presence as her mind was dominated by the thought of him.

Sitting up, she ran an experimental hand through her hair, mentally determining how much attention it would require this morning to attain some degree of acceptable appearance. He had said he would return for the sweets wrapper, but he had not said when he would do so. What if he was planning to join them for breakfast?

Darting a panicked look to the clock on her bedside table, Hermione climbed from the bed and hurried to the bathroom to prepare for her day.

---

Stormy was picking lackadaisically at her fried egg, missing the busy morning bustle to which she had grown accustomed at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Her sisters and Ginny Weasley were at Ginny's home, visiting with the Weasley family; Alicia was in Ireland, visiting with Seamus' family; Tonks had left early, with Professor Lupin, for a shopping expedition in Diagon Alley; Hermione was sleeping unusually late; Mummy had spent the night away, attending to business, whatever that meant; Sirius, who was always there for breakfast, had not shown up; Fletcher had disappeared again, though he always came back, even if Crookshanks had to find him and bring him back; Stormy was left to the company of Auntie Min, Professor Dumbledore, and her own boredom.

There was a motion in the corner of her eye and she turned to see her mummy, looking so pretty and smiling at her.

"Mummy!" Stormy cried, rising from her chair and hurling herself into her mother's waiting arms.

Sophronia knelt to receive the child, stroking her fine corn silk hair with a tender touch. "Good morning, precious," she whispered.

Dumbledore rose from his place at the head of the table and approached them. "I don't believe we've met since you left school, Mrs. –" Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat in a meaningful manner and Dumbledore cast a thankful glance her way before finishing, "Mrs. Snape. I don't need to ask how you are getting on; I can see you are in fine fettle."

Sophronia rose and accepted the proffered hand. "Good morning, Headmaster. Yes, I am very well, thank you. I hope your trip from the Continent was pleasant?"

Dumbledore answered her smilingly, offering a seat at the table.

"Actually, I have already eaten this morning," Sophronia said. "I wish to speak with Stormy. Have you finished eating, love?"

Stormy agreed that she was finished and happily accompanied her mother out of the dining room and up the stairs, to the nursery.

"Where were you, Mummy?" Stormy asked, swinging her mother's hand joyfully.

"I'm going to tell you all about it, sweetness," Sophronia responded, standing back to allow Stormy to enter the nursery first.

"Sirius!" Stormy said, running up to give him a hug. "Where have you been?" After a moment, a frown marred the little face. "Were you and Mummy in the same place?"

Sirius smiled crookedly over her head at Sophronia. "Can't keep a secret from this one," he murmured.

Sophronia sat down upon the rug, so that Stormy was standing between them. "Stormy, you know how everyone has to get married?"

Stormy nodded. "Skye is marrying Bill and Shadow is marrying Ron and Severus is marrying icky old Fleur and ..." Another frown. "Mummies don't have to get married, do they? You're already married to Papa."

Sophronia reached out and stroked Stormy's cheek. "Well, love, your papa is gone, and I, too, am required by the law to marry."

Stormy's lower lip protruded slightly. "Mr. Malfoy wanted to marry you, didn't he?"

"He may have meant to ask me, sweetheart; I don't know. But I did not love Mr. Malfoy, and I could not have married him."

Stormy sat down and leant against Sophronia, whose arms immediately pulled her into a comforting hug. "Mummies love daddies," Stormy said, working it out in her own mind. "But what happens when daddies die?"

Sophronia's eyes filled with tears and she looked imploringly at Sirius, as she struggled not to cry. Coming to the rescue, Sirius said, "What do you think happens, Stormy?"

Stormy studied Sirius speculatively, her mind turning behind cornflower-blue eyes. Sirius was reminded rather disconcertingly of her older brother, and his finger went instinctively to loosen the collar of his robes. After a moment, Stormy said, "I think that sometimes, mummies love someone else after daddies die." Unerringly, Stormy's accusing glance travelled to Sirius' left hand, where his new wedding ring was proudly displayed. "You married my mummy," she said flatly.

Sirius met her eyes unflinchingly. "I did marry your mummy, Stormy. I love her so much. I hope you won't be too angry with me."

"You played with me and gave me pocket money and were nice to me just because you love Mummy," she said, with Snape-like finality.

Now Stormy was on the receiving end of Sirius' crooked smile. "No, you monkey," he said with great sincerity, knowing that the future of his relationship with her depended on convincing her of the truth of his words. "I played with you and gave you pocket money and was nice to you because I like you very much and wanted to be your friend – even if your mum wouldn't marry me."

Stormy stared at him for what seemed an eternity to the adults who hung upon her judgement; neither Sophronia nor Sirius took a breath as they awaited her pronouncement. "Can I call you Dad?" Stormy asked, finally.

Sirius let out a great bark of laughter. "I think I would like that very much, Stormy," he told her.

Stormy giggled. "Will you be Skye's and Shadow's and Severus' dad, too?"

"Well," he answered carefully, "I will be Skye's and Shadow's stepfather, but Severus isn't your mum's child, so I won't be related to him."

Stormy was becoming excited, now. "Where will we live? At Phoenix House?"

"We will have a house of our very own, Stormy," Sophronia said, having recovered the use of her voice. "Sirius and I are working to get the house all ready for you to come and live there."

"Can I have pink walls in my room?" she asked. "And a pink rug?"

Sirius leaned towards her confidentially. "And a pink canopy over your bed!" he promised.

Stormy jumped up and danced around the room. "I think Mummy and I are going to like being married to you, Sirius!" Sophronia and Sirius both laughed at her remark, and Stormy paused then, looking at Sirius shyly from beneath her lashes. "I mean – Dad," she amended.

Sophronia suddenly groped for a handkerchief in her pocket, and Sirius watched the child with wonder, marvelling at her dead accurate replication of one of Sophronia's signature coquettish looks.

"I'm going to like it, too, Stormy," he admitted, his larynx unexpectedly tight with emotion. Swallowing past the lump there, he cleared his throat and added, "Now, there's something I need to explain to you about Fletcher ..."

---

Hermione put the final touches to her makeup with hands wont to tremble. She had already been downstairs to seek out any breakfast visitors, only to be told by McGonagall, "No, Hermione, we haven't seen Severus this morning." She had returned to her room to perfect her appearance, becoming more doubtful with each passing moment that he was going to return.

She was tempted to believe that it had all been a very life-like dream, but the very faint soreness in her wrists from his attempts to restrain her from flailing at him the night before told her that it had happened. It was still possible, however, that he had thought better of the madness of loving her – of all but making love to her – and had determined that he would not compound his error by appearing and encouraging her in her delusions.

The thought that he would not come, not ever again, hurt with a physical ache that brought her arms protectively around herself as she began to rock in her seat, willing herself not to cry and botch her makeup.

She answered the knock on her door without thinking, working out in her mind how she would flee England to spare herself the necessity of marrying someone she did not love. She could surely find a position in ...

"Miss?"

Winky was peering up at her with some concern.

"Yes, Winky?" she replied absently.

"Miss Hermione, Professor Snape is downstairs saying Miss has his bookmark and the Professor is wanting it," Winky blurted.

Hermione did not stay to ask further questions; she snatched the Honeydukes wrapper from her bedside table and flew down the staircase.

Severus was standing just inside the first floor sitting room, his own doubts jostling one another about in his mind, but it was all forgotten as the girl hurled herself at him. He caught her with a chuckle, allowing them both to fall upon the sofa behind him.

"Perhaps I should acquire protective gear," he murmured, reflecting that it was a good thing no one else had been occupying the sitting room. The child needed instruction in how to behave, but he did not have the heart to impart it to her when she so desperately needed to be kissed.

Recovering from said kiss, Hermione buried her nose in his freshly shampooed hair, breathing in the conflicting herbal scent of the shampoo and the musky scent of his shaving lotion, and she pressed a kiss behind his ear before placing her lips there and whispering, "It wasn't a dream."

Severus tightened his grip upon her. "It happened, Hermione – but that does not mean it is not a dream, all the same."

Her chuckle was a delightful sound, uttered as it was with her face buried in his neck. He pulled his head back from hers, reaching to tilt her chin and so that he could claim her lips again, but was interrupted by a voice from the doorway.

"Severus, what are you doing cuddling Hermione?"

The two lovers fell apart a bit guiltily and turned as one to confront Stormy, who stood in the doorway with the sweets wrapper in her hand.

"You are supposed to cuddle with Fleur, not with Hermione," Stormy complained, frowning. "The wrong people can't kiss and hug; it's not right."

Severus stood and approached Stormy, searching his mind for an appropriate explanation for an eight year old. "May I have the sweets wrapper, please?" he asked, stalling for time.

Stormy looked up at him, offering the wrapper. "Fleur will be angry, Severus, and you don't want for Fleur to be angry with Hermione. She's mean when she's angry."

Severus nodded gravely, placing the sweets wrapper in his wallet, which he then returned to his inner coat pocket. "Was Fleur unpleasant to you?" he asked.

Stormy's head bobbed. "Sometimes," she agreed.

Severus offered his hand to Stormy and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the sofa, where Hermione moved over so that Stormy could sit in the middle. Severus said, "Fleur was disagreeable to me, as well, Stormy. She and I decided that we did not wish to be married to one another."

Stormy cocked her head to one side. "Fleur isn't going to be my sister?" When Severus shook his head in the negative, Stormy threw her arms around him. "That makes everything perfect!" she crowed.

"Does it?" he inquired, somewhat confused.

Stormy bounced up, turning to include Hermione in the conversation. "Sirius is my new dad!" she announced.

"Is he?" Hermione asked, feigning surprise. "Do you like that?"

Stormy nodded enthusiastically. "Yes – but he's not Severus' dad, because Mummy isn't Severus' real mum." Stormy turned back to her brother with a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Severus."

Severus attempted to look sorrowful. "It's all right, Stormy. I'm all grown up, now. I don't need a father as much as you do."

Stormy perked up at his logic. "No, you don't!" she agreed. Another frown crossed her face. "But you do have to get married, Severus, Mummy told me you do. And you quarrelled with Fleur – now what are you going to do?" Stormy turned to Hermione, her sure ally in all problem solving. "We have to find someone for Severus to marry, Hermione."

Hermione smiled at her. "I'll bet he can find someone all by himself," she said.

Stormy looked doubtful. "Severus is shy," she announced with great authority.

"I am not," her ungrateful brother snorted behind her.

Stormy turned back to him, her hands fisted and resting on her non-existent hips. "If Nanny says you're shy, then you're shy," she insisted.

Severus opened his mouth to argue, but he caught Hermione's minatory expression and changed his mind. "Stormy, how would it be if I married Hermione instead?" he asked.

Stormy's mouth dropped open. "You can't do that!" she objected. "Severus, you're really old! And Hermione is just a teenager!"

Hermione recognised the tempestuous signs on her beloved's face and she took over the explanation. "Stormy, sometimes people marry someone who is not their same age," she said soothingly. "I know it is odd of me, but I really like your brother."

"Thank you very much," Severus muttered forebodingly, but no one was listening to him.

Hermione saw the indecision in Stormy's face. "At least he's not an icky old boy," she pointed out. "And, I would really, really like to be your sister, Stormy," she added.

Stormy reached out and took Hermione's hand. "But do you want to hug and kiss him?" she asked, confused.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I do."

Stormy capitulated. "Okay, but I don't understand."

Hermione laughed and hugged the little girl. "It'll be good; you'll see," she promised.

Stormy returned the hug with true affection, then another thought occurred to her. "Guess what?" she asked, turning to include her forgotten brother in the conversation. "Fletcher is a girl, and she had babies!"

A scowl crossed Severus' face. "That reminds me," he said, reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a humming purple Puffling.

"Pretty!" Stormy exclaimed, holding out her hands for it. "Where did you get him?"

Severus ignored the question, saying, "His name is Mortimer," and relinquishing the Puffling into Stormy's hands. "I believe he would enjoy the company of Fletcher's babies."

Stormy received the Puffling with pleasure. "Mummy and Sirius said I can see all the Pufflings this weekend when I go to live at my new house," she said. "They're there now, getting my room ready for me. Will you come see my new room when I move there, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, smiling lovingly at the child. "I'll come," she promised.

---

Mike and Carol Granger had been pounced upon by their daughter when they walked in the door that afternoon. Hermione had informed them of the guest they would receive that evening, as well as her expectations of their behaviour towards the visitor, then she had permitted them to have a bit of a lie-down.

Mike was not terribly pleased that Carol would not permit the lie-down to consist of actually sleeping. No, she wanted to discuss Hermione's bombshell.

Exhaustively.

"She told us she was going to have to marry months ago, Mike – it's not as if that was news."

"I'm not disputing that," he grumbled, hitting his pillow with a fist and thinking that those lucky sods with bedrooms separate from their wives could sleep when it took their fancy.

"And she told me back in June that she was in love with a man who had become engaged to another woman. It was when she and I went to the spa, you remember?"

He sighed. "Yes..."

"She went to all the trouble to learn how to tame her hair and to apply makeup, just like a general planning a war – I was proud of her for being so adult about it and I encouraged her to fight for what she wanted."

Mike sat up suddenly. "You encouraged her to run after a bloke twenty years older than she is?"

Carol had the grace to look sheepish. "I told her to go after her man – it didn't occur to me that her man might also be her teacher." She stared at the ceiling light fixture for a moment, plucking at the duvet with her fingers. "But he is the man who rescued her last autumn when she was taken by those terrorists, Mike. He risked his own life. And I've seen the articles in their newspaper; the man is considered to be a hero of that war, just as Hermione is."

"It sounds to me like some filthy-minded pervert who has no business teaching children wants to get his hands on my baby girl, Caro."

Now Carol sat up. "I don't think it's fair to say that. He refused to see her socially until she left school; it sounds to me as if he was determined not to be inappropriate with a student, Mike."

Mike snorted in exasperation. "I can't see a way out of it, Caro. Hermione has to be married because of the so-called Ministry for Magic, she's determined to stay in that world, and at least this fellow sounds like he might be rich – an estate with servants in Hampshire, no less. She seems dead set on having him. What can we do?"

Carol slanted a glance at her husband of twenty-five years. "What could our parents do when we decided to be married?"

"Not a bloody thing," her spouse responded, reaching for her. "If you're not going to let me sleep, I am afraid I will have to take inappropriate liberties."

"I thought you would never take the hint," his unrepentant spouse replied, pulling him down into the sheets.

---

Severus sat in the backseat of the limousine, periodically assuring himself that he was not nervous. Mr. Swift had been happy, if somewhat surprised, to have received word from him again so soon –

"The same house, sir?"

"Yes, where we went last night."

"And will the young lady be going with us, sir?"

"The young lady lives there, Mr. Swift."

"Of course she does, sir. And will we be driving all about town tonight?"

"Just say what you want to say, Swift."

"I'm a father myself, sir. What are your intentions towards the young lady?"

"I'm going there tonight to ask her father's permission to marry her, Swift – does that meet with your approval?"

"It does indeed, sir!"

"Excellent. And are there any other questions I can answer for you? Would you, perhaps, like to have an accounting of my circumstances and how I intend to support her?"

The grinning Mr. Swift had swiftly disclaimed the desire for any such information, and had been the picture of professional discretion when he arrived around the corner from Grimmauld Place to pick up the Potions master and to convey him to Islington that evening.

Severus had left Hermione soon after the conclusion of their discussion with Stormy, promising to meet her at her parents' home that evening at seven. They had agreed not to attempt to share a meal at this first meeting, so Severus had only to explain to these Muggles why he wanted to marry their teenage daughter and how he meant to provide for her. How differently than wizards could the Muggles possibly conduct such negotiations? Hermione had explained that modern Muggle manners did not require the asking of the parents' permission, nor the disclosure of financial information – she had even suggested that they should simply be married as Sirius and Sophronia had done, dropping in at the Ministry for Magic, and that they inform her parents of it after the fact.

Such a notion affronted Severus' sense of dignity, and did not at all suit his idea of what was due to Hermione's consequence, as the woman of his choice. He made many allowances in his mind for the fact that she was Muggle-born, and that she was also very young; it would be all but impossible for her to understand the insult to herself that such a wedding would imply, coming so quickly on the heels of the announcement of the break-up with Fleur. He could at least be thankful that Hermione was willing to accept his judgment in this matter without fighting him about it. He intended to marry his Muggle-born witch with all the pomp and circumstance at his disposal. He could not prevent the gossips from suggesting that Hermione had been the cause of the broken engagement with Fleur, but he would not have her appearing to be the second-best candidate for his hand in marriage. He must, therefore, make sure that his wedding to Hermione, in spite of the short time he had in which to plan it, would outshine the planned nuptials with Fleur in every particular.

Arriving at the Granger home, Severus allowed Mr. Swift to open the door for him and stood for a moment in the street, making sure that the Muggle suit which Hermione had suggested that he wear to this meeting was hanging properly and that the necktie was in place. She had said he would seem less alien and intimidating to her parents if he dressed as a Muggle; he could only hope she was right.

---

Hermione impatiently paced the hallway, feeling more nervous than Crookshanks on his worst day. She had done all she could to prepare her parents for meeting with Severus, explaining her beloved's scruples to them and begging their patience for however odd his ideas might seem to them. This was, surely, the last hurdle she would have to pass to become engaged to Severus, was it not?

When she heard the limousine in front of the house, she threw open the door and went onto the porch, closing the door behind her. Severus walked up the path to her, his straight-backed bearing and piercing black gaze striking her to weak-kneed confusion from several feet away; how could she hide her obvious befuddlement in his presence from her parents?

Though he did not smile, the softening of the firm line of his lips and the warmth in his eyes were enough to undo her resolutions of sane behaviour; she wrapped her arms about him as he joined her on the porch, pressing herself to him.

"You look so good," she said, rubbing her cheek on the lapel of the suit coat.

Severus permitted himself to stroke her hair once before compelling her to release him with one firm hand upon her shoulder. "If you are a good girl, there may be time for hugging after we have met with your parents, Hermione. I refuse, however, to meet them in a state of disorder."

She sighed deeply, looking up into his eyes. "There had better be time for it," she grumped, and was gratified with the glimmer of a smile.

"Once more into the breach, my friends," he murmured, urging her forward.

---

The Grangers stood to meet the visitor when Hermione led him into the back sitting room. The stranger was a tall fellow, with a gaunt, austere face; shoulder-length black hair; an over-large, hawkish nose; well-formed, thin lips; and glittering black eyes. He bore himself like an aristocrat and he executed a rather formal bow to Carol before offering his hand to Mike.

Carol wasted no time once they were seated. "Professor, we can never thank you enough for saving Hermione when she was taken by those Death Dealers!"

"Death Eaters, Mum," Hermione hissed.

Severus was surprised to have such an easy beginning to the conversation. "It was my privilege to do so," he assured Mrs. Granger sincerely.

Mike watched him closely for a moment before blurting out, "If you and Hermione have been interested in one another since the kidnapping, then why did you become engaged to another woman, Professor?"

Severus looked Hermione's father squarely in the face. "I think that's a fair question, Mr. Granger, and I respect you for asking it." Severus transferred his gaze to Hermione's face. "As much as I wanted to be with Hermione, I did not believe that I could ever deserve her. I also did not believe it was possible that she would choose me over a man closer to her age."

Hermione reached a hand to touch his face. "I never wanted anyone else, Severus," she murmured. "I never will."

Mike spoke again. "Well, Professor, our girl has told us why she wants you – but why would you choose her? She's a wilful puss, you know. I wouldn't think she would suit a man of your stamp."

Severus raised one eyebrow at Mr. Granger's inference, but had to admit to himself that it was another reasonable question. "She is spirited, Mr. Granger, and utterly engaging. I find Hermione to be highly intelligent and fascinating; with Hermione in my life, there will never be a dull moment." He slanted a glance at Hermione, who had the grace to blush, though she reached to him, almost involuntarily, and he took her hand in his own. "She is courageous, loyal, and fearless," he continued, his gaze now on Hermione's face, rather than her father's. "When my eight year old sister was taken ill, Hermione nursed her until she was well again. With my own eyes, I have seen Hermione stand over the body of a fallen comrade, guarding him, heedless of her own safety, in the midst of a fierce battle. I don't know of a woman who is her equal."

Carol glanced at Mike in a pitying way; apparently, she was sold. "Why did you come here?" Mike asked, annoyed. "Hermione's of full legal age, Snape. You could have married her any time you wanted and dropped us a postcard about it."

A rare smile graced Severus' lips. "So Hermione keeps telling me," he admitted. "Mr. Granger, in the wizarding world, honour demands that a man make his suit to the family of the woman he hopes to take as his wife. It gives him the opportunity to divulge his means and to discuss with her parents the practical aspects of the ways in which he intends to care for his wife after they are married."

Carol rose from her seat with a suddenness which startled her daughter and husband. "I think it's time for some tea. Mike will help me in the kitchen. Hermione, why don't you show Severus about the garden?"

In the kitchen, she began to set things on the tea tray with annoyed snaps of the wrist.

"What?" Mike demanded.

"What is your problem?"

"Do you want grandchildren who look like that? What does she see in him?"

She gaped at him. Then she laughed softly. "You men are so blind," she murmured. "That man is sex on legs, Mike. He's gainfully employed, he is a property owner, he is a decorated war hero -- and, on top of that, he worships her. We would be fools to interfere."

Over the tea tray, Carol engaged Hermione in a discussion of wizarding wedding customs, while Mike brought out a bottle of brandy and suggested that he "warm" Severus' tea. The two men perused the financial statement which Severus had produced from an inner coat pocket, and Mike asked astute questions, which showed his keen business sense. When they parted, it was on terms of amity.

"You two have our blessing," Mike stated as he and Carol stood at the door, seeing Severus and Hermione out of the house.

---

Hermione clung to Severus in the back seat of the limousine as they travelled north, out of town; he held her to his side with a grip of iron, using his free hand to stroke up and down her back restfully.

Severus had smoothly gained her father's permission to take her out, solicitously inquiring as to her curfew, which drew from her a huff of annoyance and from her father a chuckle of enjoyment. Once in the limousine, he had shrugged out of the suit coat and removed the necktie, placing them neatly on the facing bench seat. Now they were heading for a destination which he declined to disclose to her, and Hermione felt as if she had been through a skirmish nearly as exhausting as the battle at the Estuary; it was a relief to her to sag against Severus and allow him to soothe her fragile nerves.

Soon, the limousine came to a halt on the side of the road and Mr. Swift communicated to them with the console speaker. "I will wait here for you, sir."

Before Hermione could inquire, Severus said, "Put both of your arms around me; we are going to Disapparate."

Hermione held tightly to him, experiencing the familiar sensations of Side-Along Apparition, until she felt another seat beneath them and opened her eyes to see their location.

They were in a room that seemed vaguely familiar, though it was largely bare and derelict-looking. They were seated upon a sofa, pulled up close to a brightly burning fire. The only other light in the room came from candles burning upon the mantelpiece. Between the sofa and the hearth there was a small, beautifully crafted cherry wood table, upon which rested a silver tray which held an iced wine bucket and two crystal flutes. On the floor before the sofa, a thick rug of dark green wool rested upon the otherwise bare floorboards.

Severus looked around at the few furnishings and saw that all he had requested had been done; looking over Hermione's head, to the corner of the room, he nodded once to Nanny, who nodded back to him before snapping her fingers and disappearing with a barely-audible popping sound.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked, looking about curiously.

Severus released his hold upon her, leaning back a bit in his seat and allowing himself to inwardly gloat over his prize. She had dressed for their interview with her parents, wearing a very feminine white blouse tucked into a flaring crimson skirt; her corkscrew curls fell loose about her face and down her back. She was very beautiful to him, limned by the firelight; his relief over the resolution of the issue with her parents permitted his desire for her to return to the forefront, and he viewed her as a feast to be relished.

"Why don't you explore and see if you can work it out?" he suggested, his voice a silky purr.

Hermione stood and turned around to view the room; she noted the positions of the windows and the doorways, then turned back to Severus, her face alight with wonder.

"It's the cabin," she said

"It is, indeed," he agreed with her.

Hermione sat again on the sofa, her eyes trained on his face. "But why have you brought us here?"

Severus allowed his gaze to travel from her face down her body, not attempting to hide from her his appreciation of what he saw; by the time his eyes reached her face again, they were burning with an intensity which fairly took her breath away.

"I have some things to say to you, Hermione, and I wanted to say them here, where it all began."

Hermione's brain began to spin, wondering what he could possibly have to say to her, after all they had shared together in the last two days; how they had held one another and kissed so passionately, how they had stood together before her parents and gained consent for their marriage – what more needed to be said?

"When we spent that night in this room, I came here as an angry, put-upon teacher, called upon to rescue and safeguard a student." He sat forward then, drawing closer to her. "Sometime in the night watches, as you wrapped yourself around me in complete trust and confidence that I would bring us both safely away from our adventure, I became just a lonely man, confronted with a bounty the likes of which I would never deserve or possess."

At the pain in his voice, Hermione murmured and moved against him, reaching a hand to caress his hair soothingly. Severus' mouth quirked slightly and he paused to press a gentle kiss to her forehead before he continued to speak.

"The totality of who you are, in your intelligence and courage and stubbornness, slew me where I sat, holding you in my arms and immersed in your scent. I desired you – desired all of you – and I hated myself for having such feelings for you. The next morning, when you smiled at me, and called me by my given name, I was all but undone. I moved away from you, sought to keep myself at a distance from you, but you would not let me go. I foolishly agreed to see you socially once you left school, and I was a total failure at ignoring you once we returned to Hogwarts. I was constantly aware of you, watching you, thinking of you, and completely unsure of your regard for me. Every time I saw you speaking or laughing or dancing with one of your classmates, I was consumed with jealousy and further convinced that you could never want me."

Hermione protested wordlessly, leaning up to press a kiss his lips; he responded to her tenderly, kissing her with a gentle adoration she had not before encountered from him. Ending the kiss, he looked into her eyes and spoke again.

"It took a near-death experience for me to finally know what your feelings were, and had been, all along. I knew I had been a fool, and I worked to do everything in my power to correct my wrongs, to give myself the right to speak to you."

Hermione was shifted slightly to one side as Severus moved; before she was aware of his actions, he had slipped down to kneel upon the rug at her feet. He took her left hand between both of his own and looked her squarely in the eye.

"I love you, Hermione. I began to love you in this room, and I have never ceased to love you or to aspire one day to have the right to call you my own. Will you make me the happiest of men by becoming my wife?"

Hermione was frozen in her position on the sofa, looking down into his beloved, fierce gaze, amazed to hear such words of love from him. She knew his feelings, but had never expected him to put them so succinctly into words, and she felt a momentary flash of shame for having underestimated him.

"Yes," she said simply, feeling the lump rising in her throat. "It is the only thing I have thought of since I began to love you in this room, Severus."

He reached into an inner pocket and brought out a small black velvet box, which he had brought home at the same time he had obtained the pearl bracelet. With a surprisingly steady hand, he opened the box, which he presented to Hermione. "This is what I have chosen for you, Hermione. Does it meet with your approval?"

Hermione stared at the large rectangular ruby, flanked by two smaller, rectangular diamonds, all of the jewels flashing in the firelight. Overcome with emotion, tears flooded her eyes as she mutely nodded her head. Severus pulled the ring from its box and took her left hand, slipping the ring onto her third finger with solemn reverence. He then removed his wand from his sleeve and held it to the ring, bending his head and pressing a kiss to the ring as it rested on her finger, murmuring a spell as he did so; the ring glowed golden for a moment, then adjusted itself to fit her finger perfectly.

"There," he said, thrusting the wand back into its sheath. "My betrothed." He plucked her from the sofa and with one twist, seated himself on the rug, coming to rest with Hermione in his lap. "Say it again," he commanded, taking a firm grasp of her chin.

"Say what?" she responded, her voice simultaneously full of tears and laughter. She rested her hands on his shoulders, drinking in the sight of his ferocious expression, feeling her heart begin to pound as she wondered what he would do next.

"Tell me you love me," he adjured her. "Tell me."

Feeling a thrill of power, Hermione looked into his eyes, which seemed to demand and plead at the same time. "Dear God, Severus, can you doubt it?" she asked, sliding her hands from his shoulders up into the hair at his nape and twining them there. "I love you past reason." She watched how his pupils seemed to dilate at her pronouncement, and for an instant, she felt his helplessness in the snare of her love. With more assurance than she had felt before, she lowered her lips to his, moving his head back to rest against the cushion of the sofa as she kissed him. He acquiesced to her, his hands contenting themselves with stroking up and down her back as he permitted her to do with him as she chose. Hermione placed tiny butterfly kisses at the corner of his mouth, refusing to kiss him fully, dipping down to gently bite his throat, then raising her head to tantalise the other corner of his mouth.

"Tease," he accused her, enjoying her inexpert attentions and deviously beginning to untuck her blouse from the waistband of her skirt.

Ignoring him, she leant up to feather kisses across his eyelids, gasping with surprise when he tumbled her off his lap and onto her back on the rug, moving to pin her wrists at the sides of her head. "Seduction lesson number one," he intoned smugly, kissing one side of her neck. "Never taunt a man who hasn't been properly kissed in a full day. It's like tempting a tiger." He kissed the other side of her neck, then released her wrists, resting on his side beside her, his ebony hair tousled, the open buttons of the dress shirt showing her the beginnings of his dark chest hair below the jut of his Adam's apple.

He watched her face as the playfulness faded, only to be replaced by yearning. Ignoring his cautioning better nature, he fell upon her with a growl, covering her completely, his teeth lightly scraping her lips in his urge to taste her. In an instant, the glowing embers had erupted again into the inferno which devoured them both. Here, alone in the cabin where first they had pressed their bodies together for warmth, they kissed voraciously as their questing hands and desperate bodies sought to come closer, ever closer to one another – and warmth be damned. For an eternity they kissed, tongues tangling; hands stroking, fondling, seeking; breathing becoming ever more ragged as they attempted to assuage their need for another by the expedient of lips, tongues, and hands.

Shamelessly, Hermione shifted beneath him, feeling the great burning need for his touch. She was immediately drunk on the throbbing ache low in her belly; daringly she allowed her rigidly held legs to relax under him, even as she gently thrust her hips upward, seeking contact where she most longed to feel it.

Severus' much-abused self-discipline stirred when Hermione sought to bring herself into contact with his tented trouser-front; his groan of frustration vibrated through her chest, vocalised as it was with his lips pressed to the flesh just above her heart, his nose buried in her fragrant cleavage. He had just sought and gained a father's permission to marry his daughter – would his first act then be to take that daughter to an isolated location and ravish her?

"Hermione," he moaned, before wrenching himself from her, struggling into a sitting position and clasping her hands to raise her as well.

"Severus?" she said in confusion, her unfocussed gaze resting on his face. Why did he keep stopping them?

With loving hands, he smoothed her skirt back over her legs and fastened the buttons he had hurriedly unfastened just moments before. Once he had restored as much order as he dared attempt, Severus managed to stand and offered a hand to pull her to her feet.

"Come – we have wine here, to toast our engagement – and then I must deliver you back to your home."

Hermione permitted him to seat her on the sofa and watched with mild interest as he uncorked the sparkling wine with a wave of his wand.

"Foolish wand waving," she murmured provocatively, and he gave her a blatantly appraising stare.

"Do not imagine that because I decline to partake of your loveliness now that I will not exact full and complete payment for every tease and taunt with which you torment me between now and our wedding night," he promised, pouring out the bubbling wine into the fluted crystal goblets.

"My goodness – you do intend to be a very busy man on our wedding night," she purred wickedly.

"Don't be absurd, Hermione," he answered, seating himself beside her and placing a goblet in her hand. "It will take me years to pay you out for all the vexation you have caused me in the last year – but I faithfully promise to settle up in full."

The heat of his glance upheld the sincerity of his pledge. Hermione's mouth ran dry as she considered the methods which he might employ to extract his vengeance. When he followed up this threat with a tender, loving smile, she realised the full extent of his unprincipled perfidy – she was so completely entranced by him that she had no desire to escape.

Severus picked up her left hand and admired his ring upon her finger, before turning the hand and placing a kiss in her palm, allowing her to feel, for just an instant, the tip of his tongue trailing over her flesh. "You have bewitched me, Hermione," he murmured, raising his head to look at her. "I will never let you go."

He raised the goblet of sparkling wine to her, waiting until she raised hers as well.

"To us," he said.

"To us," she echoed, and they drank from the glasses until they were empty.

"Ready?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded, and moving as one, they threw the crystal goblets into the fireplace, where they shattered and the shards settled amongst the ashes. As the fragments were embedded in the dying embers of the fire, Severus pulled Hermione into his arms for a last wrenching kiss before escorting her back to her father's home.

---

Friday afternoon, Mr. Swift arrived promptly at three o'clock to pick up the Grangers to transport them to Hampshire for their weekend stay at the Estuary. Hermione and her mother discussed the guest list for the wedding as her father perused the journal he had brought along; the trip passed comfortably and before long they were pulling up in the Estuary drive.

The door opened and Lorry stood in the doorway bowing and smiling; Mike cast an alarmed look at his wife, who hissed, "House-elves, Mike! Do try to keep up!"

Severus emerged from the house then, wearing the black trousers and forest green shirt Hermione had suggested for him. His warm eyes rested first upon her face, promising a proper greeting later, before he graciously greeted her parents and escorted them into the foyer, keeping up a running commentary on the history of the house as he went.

Sophronia and Sirius met them in the entrance hall, and introductions were made. The Blacks smoothly took the hand-off of the in-laws and led them up the stairwell, explaining that their rooms would be on the family corridor.

Severus waited for the Grangers to disappear from the first floor landing before dragging Hermione into the blue salon, closing the door in the face of any helpful house-elves and pulling her roughly into his arms.

"Thirty-six hours!" he groaned, kissing her repeatedly; he had not seen her since breakfast the day before.

"It seemed like ninety," she replied, returning his embraces. "Three weeks is an eternity, too," she murmured, referring to their wedding day.

"Eighteen days," he corrected her, pulling away and directing her to the mirror over the mantel. "Sophronia is bringing your parents in here for drinks before dinner; they'll be here any minute."

Sighing with resignation, Hermione pulled a lipstick from her pocket and began to repair the damage inflicted by her impatient – and infuriating – fiancé.

---

The party from the Burrow Portkeyed in at midday on Saturday, and the reunion was loud and enthusiastic. The Snape girls had to exclaim over their new stepfather, while Harry claimed the right to kiss his new godmother on the cheek.

"...because if you married my godfather, you're my godmother, right?"

Snape stood with a possessive arm about Hermione's waist, watching the Potter brat cozen up to his stepmother. "You'd better watch yourself, Potter. With that kind of reasoning, you could end up related to me."

Harry turned then to Severus, mindful of all Ron had told him about Snape over the last week. "Congratulations, sir," he said, offering his hand to his former Potions master.

Severus would probably have shaken Potter's hand even if Hermione had not seen fit to pinch him at that moment. "Thank you, Mr. Potter," Severus said solemnly, gripping the boy's hand firmly. "Allow me to congratulate you on your engagement, as well."

Arthur and Molly came up then to shake their hands and congratulate them, and to comment on the odd behaviour of Percy.

"Gone off to France!" Molly exclaimed, agitated. "He says he's visiting friends, but I never knew of Percy having friends in France! I told him he needs to be at home, looking for a wife, but he says he can look in France as well as he can at home. I don't know what I'm going to do with him!"

Severus had no trouble maintaining his impassive expression, but meeting Bill Weasley's eyes from across the room nearly did him in. They both knew very well what had drawn Percy across the channel.

Hermione was huddled with Skye, Shadow and Ginny, whispering. "The broken engagement was in the papers on Wednesday, but Mum says Percy left for France on Tuesday," Ginny told them. "Do you think he's stupid enough to marry her on the rebound?"

Hermione smiled. "I actually think they would be happy together, Gin – with Fleur's looks and Percy's ambition, he will probably go far in the Ministry, and being successful is as important as being in love, to some people."

Her eyes wandered across the room to light upon the tall, dark, grim-faced man, who looked up as if he could feel her eyes upon him, and his expression lightened to a near-smile as he looked at her.

---

The guests were thronging the rooms on the ground floor of the Estuary and Sophronia had the satisfaction of knowing that even though her invitations had not gone out until Wednesday, she still managed to lure most of wizarding society to her party by Saturday, in lieu of yet another Ministry function. They were gathered to celebrate the marriage of Sophronia to Sirius Black, as well as the engagements of the Snape siblings: Severus, Skye, and Shadow.

The guests arrived by Portkey, by Floo, and those who came from outside of London were able to Apparate. Hermione stood with Severus in the entrance hall, next to Sophronia and Sirius, greeting the guests as they arrived. She was introduced as Severus' fiancée and her hand was shaken again and again as dozens of people, including friends, acquaintances and strangers, streamed into the Estuary.

She had been quite surprised to have Severus knock at her door as Nanny was helping her put the finishing touches upon her toilette for that night. Nanny had let him in, and refused to be shooed out, maintaining that it was not proper for him to be there unless Nanny stayed.

"All right," Severus had said, handing Nanny a flat black case, "make yourself useful."

Severus had taken Hermione by the hand and led her to stand before the full length mirror, and then stood behind her, his hands upon her shoulders.

"The gown suits you," he observed, appreciating how the simple gown of metallic gold cloth hugged her breasts before falling from the high waistline to the tips of her matching shoes.

Hermione smiled at his mirror image. "You have good taste – it was sweet of you to have the gown made for me."

He gave her a smirk. "I needed a canvas." Motioning Nanny closer, he buried his nose in the hair at Hermione's temple. "I have an engagement gift for you," he murmured in her ear, sending goose bumps racing over her flesh.

"But, Severus," she objected, "you've given me so many gifts already! My engagement ring and this dress ..."

Paying her no heed, he turned to Nanny, who snapped the case open and held it up for him. Removing an item from the case, Severus turned back to Hermione, laying a necklace of blazing rubies and diamonds about her throat and fastening them at her nape.

Hermione gasped. "Severus! These must have cost a fortune!"

"Take it up with my grandfather's grandfather," he suggested snidely. He turned back to Nanny, then returned to Hermione with the matching earrings in his hand. "Can you manage these?" he asked, the dark, silken texture of his voice sending a shaft of pure desire through her body. "Or shall I put them in for you?"

Hermione put the earrings on and surveyed herself in her shimmering gold gown, bedecked like a queen in rubies and diamonds. Severus remained behind her, clad in his customary formal black, with his Order of Merlin pinned to his chest; his face showed enormous satisfaction as he watched her with narrowed eyes.

"My glorious Gryffindor lioness, all in crimson and gold," he purred.

Now she stood with him at the head of the room, which had been Transfigured by the combined efforts of Severus and Bill from the four separate main salons into a grand ballroom, prepared to open the dancing. Sophronia and Sirius stood at the opposite side of the room, with Skye and Bill to their right, and Shadow and Ron to their left. The music began to play and all four couples swept into the dance.

From the first floor landing, an extremely excited Stormy watched the people she most loved as they danced with their partners, each couple lost in one another's eyes. Stormy sat with her face pressed to the newels, breathless with wonder, while Nanny stood to one side, keeping a sharp eye upon her charge. The little girl was permitted to watch the first dance, then she was to have a plate of all the finest treats from the refreshment tables, and be off to her bed.

Harry stood with the other guests, watching the four couples dance, and he could not tear his eyes from Hermione. Her long, dark hair was pinned up, with corkscrew tendrils framing her face. Her eyes were fastened to Snape's face, and he returned her regard with no less avidity. They moved together as if they shared one body. Harry had never seen Hermione so luminous with happiness. She held herself with an elegance Harry could not reconcile with his image of a slightly podgy, bushy-haired girl with large front teeth who bossed him around in every facet of his life.

It left him speechless.

Ginny watched him, a tiny smile on her lips. "She looks happy," she said mildly.

Harry glanced down into Ginny's face. "Did you know about them?"

Ginny shook her head. "Tonks said that Dumbledore and McGonagall seemed to know all about it, but no one else had a clue. Do you really mind?"

Other couples began to take the floor and Harry took Ginny into his arms, leading her into the dance. "It's the last worry from my mind, love." His green eyes smiled down at her. "I can just be happy now – all of my friends are matched up with someone they love."

Ginny moved closer to him and held him more tightly, loving him so much she thought her heart would break.

---

Some time later, Shadow and Skye sat at the side of the room with Carol Granger between them, sipping from cut-glass crystal punch cups and watching those on the dance floor.

"Severus is dancing again," Shadow said. "Have you ever seen him dance this much at a party?"

Skye shook her head. "Never. And look at him."

All eyes turned to study Severus' face as he slow-danced with Hermione. She had both arms around him, her cheek pressed to his chest, her eyes closed, the picture of contentment. He looked at her face as they danced, his eyes filled with immeasurable tenderness. They might have been alone in the room, rather than in the midst of wizarding society.

"He never looked at Fleur that way," Shadow said.

Sophronia sat down on Shadow's other side. "But he never claimed that his relationship with Fleur was a love-match, either," she pointed out. "What is between Severus and Hermione cannot be compared to what he had with Fleur."

Carol listened to them with great interest. "Hermione told us that Severus' first engagement was a matter of convenience."

The Snape girls nodded; Shadow took her eyes from her brother and looked at her mother. "Did you know that Severus and Hermione loved one another?"

Sophronia shook her head, smiling at Sirius as he came up to her, bearing two cups of punch. She took hers from him with a word of thanks and turned back to the girls.

"No," Sophronia said. "He could not let his feelings be known when he was engaged to another woman; it would have been wrong."

The song came to an end and Severus and Hermione strolled from the dance floor arm-in-arm, pausing to speak with Draco and Luna Malfoy. Severus kept one hand upon Hermione at all times; even when he appeared to be entirely immersed in conversation with Draco, he held Hermione to him with a possessive arm.

Skye spoke with amazement. "He can't keep his hands off of her. He only ever touched Fleur if he couldn't avoid it."

Shadow giggled. "He's only now getting to the point where he doesn't jump if one of us touches him."

Sophronia spoke very softly, her expression thoughtful. "Severus has not had a happy life. I never thought I would see him as he is with Hermione. It pleases me more than I can say."

Sirius placed a supportive hand on her shoulder, responsive to the pathos in her voice, and Sophronia gave him a shining look.

Carol said, "I'm so glad you invited us here, this weekend. It has meant more to me than you know to see Severus amongst his family in his own home; it is so much easier to feel that I know something about him, now."

Sophronia reached a hand to Hermione's mother. "I am so glad that you could come, Carol," she said with her gentle warmth. "Hermione has given more of herself to this family than we had any right to expect. For her to fall in love with Severus and to become a true member of our family just makes things perfect, to us."

Carol returned the pressure of Sophronia's hand and each of them had to dry their eyes upon their handkerchiefs.

---

Severus came up to Hermione as she stood alone on the terrace, looking out into the darkened grounds. "Are you enjoying the party?" he asked, slipping his hands about her waist and nuzzling the back of her neck.

Hermione leant back into his hard body. "I am enjoying every moment of every hour, Severus – even when I'm sleeping."

He chuckled darkly. "Get plenty of sleep now; I do not intend to allow you to sleep once you belong to me."

Hermione turned in his arms, pressing herself against him and tilting her head to look into his boundless black eyes, faintly illuminated by the moonlight.

"I wish tonight was our wedding night," she said wistfully.

Severus raised a long-fingered hand to cup her cheek. "When I take you for my own, Hermione, I do not wish to be obliged to rise from our bed to make conversation with other people for a long, long time. I want day after day of nothing, and no one, but you, until I have learnt every curve of your body by sight, and touch, and taste. I will have no thought nor energy for anyone but my bride."

"Severus," she breathed, aroused by the very words he spoke to her.

"Soon," he promised, turning to take her back into the house.

---

A/N:

MollysSister is the world's finest Internet jewellery shopper!

Hermione's engagement ring, though hers is in yellow gold, rather than platinum:

http://www.sndgems.com/platinumrubydiamondrings13.htm

The diamond and ruby necklace and earring set:

http://www.khazargems.com/prodimages/nar3357-2-lg.jpg

I think one more chapter will bring us to the end.