Hooked on a Feeling

Chapter 21: Hooked on a Feeling

Hermione congratulated herself, not for the first time, on being a very patient, practical person. In the fortnight that had passed since telling her Severus Snape that she loved him, she had waited, curious, to see if the man would return the sentiment. Inwardly, she knew for a fact that Severus loved her, if for no other reason than he would not have hesitated to inform her if he did not. His actions, his expressions, all betrayed to Hermione exactly what she needed to know. Given that the man had suffered grievous emotional abuse all his life, it would have shocked her to hear 'I love you' tripping glibly off his tongue.

Nor would it have been convincing. While her own parents had bandied the words about as far back as she could remember, Hermione doubted whether Severus would ever be the type to do so. She was certain that he had a considerable amount of baggage through which to weed, and there was no way that she could lessen the load without adding to it.

Molly visited her one Monday evening, bringing a cake and announcing, rather apologetically, that Ron had remarried.

It wasn't news. Harry had been to the weekend wedding and told Hermione about it at the Ministry that day.

"Harry broke the news this morning. That's wonderful, Molly!" Hermione genuinely meant it. With Severus in her life, it was far easier to be pleased for her ex-husband.

"It was a very quiet affair in France," Molly assured her, as if a grand wedding would have somehow insulted Hermione's memory. "I know how it must look to you, though – Ron getting married only a month after the divorce goes through, ―"

"It's all right, Molly. I'm glad Ron is happy."

Molly nodded her head, but she bore an odd expression. It led Hermione to ask, "What about you and Arthur? Are you pleased?"

"Oh, yes," she said quickly. "Celeste is a lovely girl. But I'm still sorry that things turned out this way for you and Ron."

"Molly ―"

"I know, don't say it. I'm being ridiculously sentimental, but there you have it." Molly held up a hand as if to ward Hermione off. "Anyway, I hear that you and Severus Snape are seeing each other."

"That's right." Hermione smiled politely and waited. Each time that she had acknowledged the fact to various people, the reactions ranged from bland indifference to outright revulsion.

"He was always a decent person. I hope that he'll be able to enjoy a bit of happiness now," Molly said in what was clearly a well-rehearsed line.

"I hope so, too."

That over, Molly launched into a new direction. "Will you be going to Samantha's dance recital on Sunday afternoon?" she wanted to know.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Samantha sent me a special invitation," Hermione said.

"I believe Ginny and Harry are having a special do at their house afterwards, did they tell you?"

"Oh, yes. I plan to be there."

"Will... will Severus be coming as well?"

Molly looked so worried that Hermione nearly laughed aloud. "No," she assured the woman.

"Oh, dear, that came out all wrong, didn't it? I was only curious. Certainly he is welcome if he wishes to come..." The words tumbled out in profuse, embarrassed apology.

"Molly, can you honestly picture Severus Snape at a little girl's dance recital? Or at a party at Harry and Ginny's?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

"Well, no."

"Samantha invited me. Anyway, I believe Severus has other plans for Sunday afternoon." She didn't know what plans they were, but Hermione was certain that Snape would have recoiled in horror at the notion of attending Harry Potter's daughter's dance recital.

"I've never been to a dance recital before," Molly admitted.

"They're a rite of passage for a lot of little girls, as well as their families," Hermione said. "I took lessons for about six months, when I was younger than Sam."

"Did you have a recital as well?"

"I'm afraid I never reached that point. Ballet was not my thing. I was constantly sitting in the corner, reading, when I should have been practicing my pliés."

"Ginny was more sports-minded, of course. And since she was the only girl in the family, the issue never came up. There simply aren't many witches and wizards who go in for dancing, other than the partnered kind, of course."

And even if Ginny had been interested, Hermione thought, the Weasley budget would surely have not allowed for such an extravagance.

The two women chatted for a few more minutes until Molly insisted that she needed to return to the Burrow. Hermione escorted her to the door, still unable to shake the feeling that there was more on her former mother-in-law's agenda.

"Molly, is there anything else? It seems as if there's something else that you're wanting to say."

Molly Weasley tried to look innocent and startled, and failed miserably. "Well, yes, but it's – I mean, it's not very important, and it's certainly none of my business, you see―"

Exasperated, Hermione shook her head. "We've known each other for twenty years, Molly. What is it?"

"Are you really happy, dear?"

Patiently, Hermione took the woman's hands in her own. "Yes, Molly. I'm really happy. I am not under Imperius, I know my own mind, and I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions."

"All right then. I'll be off."

Hermione closed the door behind Molly, wondering how long it would take before people stopped assuming that she'd lost her marbles.

* * *

She did not expect to find Severus puttering about her kitchen late Sunday afternoon. As far as Hermione knew, he had planned to return home at the same time she left for the dance recital.

"Still here?" Surprised, Hermione tossed her cloak over the back of the sofa and wandered into the kitchen.

Severus glanced up as she entered. "I started reading and the time got away from me, I'm afraid. I thought I would make myself a cup of tea before I go. Aren't you home early?"

"I didn't stay very long at Harry and Ginny's. I still need to work on that report for work tomorrow," Hermione said, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"How was the dance recital?" he inquired politely, stirring the tea he'd just poured for himself.

"About as expected. Several dozen little girls of various ages and various stages of coordination, an abundance of sequins and tulle, and doting parents taking photographs and home videos. Any tea left?"

"Of course." Snape Accio'd another cup and tapped the teapot with his wand. A stream of amber liquid poured into the bone china. "Did the Weasleys and Potters enjoy themselves?"

Hermione smiled. "About as much as you'd expect. Arthur was all over the place with his camera, Molly was beaming fit to burst, and Harry and Ginny were simply over the moon."

"All over a silly little dance recital?"

She nodded, cradling the teacup Severus handed her and staring into its depths as though the answer to Life Itself was buried there. Snape frowned, watching her.

"Too strong?"

"No." Hermione shook her head absently. "It's just fine."

"Is something wrong?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. Maybe."

Severus gave her a look that would have shot chills down the spine of a Hogwarts first-year. "Ten points to Gryffindor for your use of all possible answers in one breath," he muttered sardonically.

Hermione managed a heartfelt grin this time. "Once a teacher, always a teacher."

"What a horrifying thought." Severus put down his cup long enough to don the leather Muggle jacket he always wore. "Will you be sharing your concerns with me, or shall I just finish my tea and go?"

"Sharing, I think."

"Oh." He looked wary, but took the jacket back off.

"Why don't we sit?" Hermione suggested, gesturing toward the kitchen table.

"This," Severus said, pulling out a chair and sitting down, "is the part that tends to make men nervous, or so the magazine articles say. Should I be worried? Have the Weasleys convinced you that I'm not worth your time and trouble?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "You've been reading magazine articles about relationships between men and women?"

"One article. One," Snape repeated, eyes narrowing. "Do not take it as a sign of anything other than self-defense."

"You can't fight what you don't understand?"

"You can't understand what you don't understand."

"Clear as mud," Hermione declared, her eyes sparkling as she sipped her tea. She took a deep breath, and then: "Here's the thing, Severus. I love you, and I suspect that you feel the same regard for me. Even if you never learn to say the words, I know your intentions."

"It's about that, then?" Snape's tone cooled somewhat.

"No, actually." She hesitated, while Severus eyed her cautiously from the other side of the table. "Did I ever tell you that Ron and I were unable to have children?"

"No." Severus gripped his teacup a little tighter. Any details of Hermione's marriage had thus far been sketchy at best. He did not want to hear how he measured up – or failed to measure up – to Ron Weasley in any way.

"Let me rephrase that. When the months and years went by and I never became pregnant, I went for testing. The healers found no problem on my end. I even went to my mother's Muggle gynecologist to confirm it. Which meant," Hermione went on, a pained expression on her face, "that the problem was with Ron, although he refused to acknowledge it."

Snape's stomach dropped smartly away. Was Hermione trying to tell him that she was pregnant? They'd used a contraceptive potion, so there should have been no problem... "Why are you telling me this?" he asked delicately.

"I just wanted you to know." Hermione sighed. "Severus, I want to have a child."

He felt his mouth go very dry. "And you arrived at this conclusion... how?"

"At the recital." She looked at him beseechingly. "Please don't blow me off on this, will you? Just listen?"

When it was apparent that Snape wasn't going to begin screaming in her face, Hermione hunted for the words to explain. "It was a silly dance recital with all sorts of uncoordinated little girls, most of whom had no talent whatsoever in that respect. It wasn't about how marvelous they were or how they'll be dancing with the London Ballet some day. It was about the parents."

"The parents?" Severus echoed, with absolutely no idea where she was going with this.

Hermione nodded fervently. "I wish you could have seen them, Severus. The whole lot of them, not just Harry and Ginny, and Arthur and Molly. Every last parent there was watching the stage as if he or she was mesmerized. People who surely complain about how awfully their children behave were watching them as though they were the most beautiful creatures on the face of the earth. They were ridiculous about it, of course, taking photograph after photograph and doing the video cameras and so forth, but still... Each of them was utterly, completely, in love.

"I know that I'm not overwhelmingly maternal, and I don't know that I would make a halfway decent mother at all, but here's the thing: I would do anything to have that same look on my face someday. I could go through life happily without children, I think, but I don't want to. I think that having a child is something that I don't want to miss out on."

Hermione took a quick sip of tea, beginning to be slightly concerned that Severus' blank expression remained unchanged. He should have snorted, risen to his feet, and stormed out by now, she thought. The fact that he hadn't gave her a glimmer of encouragement.

"I would like to – go through the experience with you. I would like to have a child with you, and raise that child with you, and – and – I know you think me an utter idiot, but there you have it." Having had her say, Hermione stared into the depths of her teacup once more. She couldn't bring herself to look Snape in the eye just now, just as he was on the verge of calling her a naïve simpleton and worse.

Severus cleared his throat. "Did you want to do that before or after the benefit of marriage?"

Hermione's head jerked up at once to find that Snape was merely regarding her quizzically, and that he didn't appear poised to deliver the most withering, abusive speech of his life. Was that a good sign?

"Up to you," she said, swallowing hard.

"Up to me?" he echoed in startled amusement.

She nodded wordlessly.

"Then I choose to do so after benefit of marriage. If you think I spent all those years patrolling the corridors of Hogwarts to keep the teen birth rate at from rising sky-high for nothing, then you obviously don't know me very well. I have a reputation to consider. We will select rings tomorrow."

Dazed, Hermione nodded.