Quiet Confession

Disclamier: J.K.R.'s characters. I'm just having a bit of fun with them.

Thanks go to my beta, Charmed_Nay, to Meredith for the advice, and to all of my friends at the Yahoo!Group, Potter_Place.

"Good morning," Hermione said as her husband opened his eyes.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked suspiciously.

"I had to use the loo," she said softly. "I see that you stayed with me." She hoped that this would be the correct way to start the conversation that she needed to have. Since they'd been home, he'd not slept the entire night with her before. He'd sit in the chair or lay next to her, but she'd always wake in the morning to find him gone and her bed cold.

"It appears that I was a bit too knackered to go to my own room," he said, moving to get up. "I apologize for invading your personal space."

She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Severus, I want you to stay with me." She saw his eyes flicker from her hand to her face. She knew he was debating on what to say and how to say it. "Why am I forced to remain in this room anyway? I thought I was to share your chambers?"

"You haven't been well. I thought it best..." He collapsed back onto his pillows. She quickly curled around him as best as she could. "Are you certain that you don't want to remain in your own chambers?"

"My place is with you," she said firmly. "Now, what are we doing today?"

"We?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Will you not allow me to venture down with you and help on your research?" she asked hopefully. She wouldn't press the issue if he declined. He'd spent the entire previous day with her, and she couldn't continue being selfish.

"Hermione," he began, "I'm really trying to care for you. Trust in me when I say that you'd do well to sit out in the sun and fresh air." He sighed. "A compromise then. I shall spend only the morning hours below, share lunch with you, and then spend the afternoon doing something that you'd like."

She smiled broadly. "I would like that." Remembering his words from the previous night, she moved up to kiss his lips gently. He'd more or less told her that he loved her. One problem was that he hadn't seemed too happy about it. Another problem was that she was supposed to have been asleep while he was talking aloud. He would see it as a betrayal of trust if she told him the truth of the matter. "However, I won't have you skiving off your research because of me. I'm just bored is all."

Severus pursed his lips. In all honesty, he would like to spend time with his research, but he didn't want to cause her any unneeded stress. Poppy had advised him against it. "Would reading suffice for this morning whilst I work?"

"Of course."

"Very well. I shall spend the afternoon in your company. For now, I suppose I should see to breakfast," he said, raising up on his elbows.

"What do you want?" she asked suddenly.

What the bloody hell is she on about? "Meaning?"

"A son or a daughter?"

Severus noted the dreamy look in her eyes and bit back his acrid retort. "I suppose I've not truly thought about it," he said honestly after wording things correctly. Feeling extremely uncomfortable, he eased out of bed. Too late did he notice his morning arousal jutting out proudly. Damn! We slept nude, straight from the bath! She must have put on her dressing gown once she'd woken. Acting as if his nakedness meant nothing to him, he dared to stretch and yawn. "Why do you ask?"

Hermione's eyes lit up. "I've always wanted a son first." Her voice had taken on a dreamy quality, and Severus nearly wished that he could think or speak so openly about such things. She bit her lip and kneeled up before him. Her hands reached up to his shoulders, and she looked into his eyes. "Your son."

For reasons unknown to him, his mouth crushed hers in a possessive kiss, and he held her tightly to him. At some point during the kiss, her hand had snaked between them and began to fondle his erection. Growling with approval, he tore his lips away from hers, letting his head fall back slightly to bask in the pleasure her hand and fingers gave him. Hermione's lips found his neck and then his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath of air as she began to suckle one of his flattened nipples. Her other hand slid down to fondle his testicles as the other stroked him quickly. One of her long nails scraped along his perineum, and the sensation caused him to have an instantaneous climax. "He-Hermione," he said between groans. Her tongue stopped laving at his chest, and her hands slowly came to rest, still groping him.

His arms closed around her as he came down from his culmination. "Good God, girl. What are you about?" he panted out.

"Pleasing my husband. You seemed to need it," she said lightly.

"I am under strict orders to see to it that you can't..." He shook his head. "I will have to leave you unsatisfied."

"Severus, I wanted to give you that. It doesn't mean you owe me anything. I love you. That's what love is."

He cupped her cheek and kissed her once more before pulling away from her. "You're a mess nonetheless." He nodded at the wet spots on her dressing grown. Severus breathed a sigh of relief as she allowed the change of subject.

"Nothing a little Cleaning Charm can't handle," she said cheekily. She moved to pull her gown over her head, and he stopped her.

"Allow me," he purred. "Poppy's orders, after all." He allowed his hands to glide up the length of her body as he pulled her gown up and off of her. "Exquisite," he breathed, eyeing his wife. He felt himself hardening again. How could she bring out such need in him? Why did she make him feel like a weak boy chasing after an available witch?

"Just a couple of weeks," she said, brushing her lips against his.

He knew exactly what she was referring to. "I hope we can last that long." He pulled away from her. "We will. For our child."

She nodded. "Are you to have breakfast in here?"

"No, I think I shall have something quick and go on down," he said quickly. He needed to put some space between them. He needed to think about things. What had happened that had changed things? He nodded and strode to the door that led to his chambers, eyes narrowing as his mind tried to decipher things. I'm being nice as per Poppy, yet it feels as though I want to be nice. This cannot go on. I will not risk my child's life nor Hermione's, but I shall have to return to my previous demeanor as soon as the pregnancy is out of danger.

Severus dressed quickly, made sure that breakfast was sent to his wife, wrote a letter to her mother, and went down to his laboratory to delve into his research. He needed to get her out of his mind. It was hard to concentrate on anything, however, as her words played over in his mind. Your son. Had she always dreamt of having his son or just since she'd fallen for him? Had she truly wanted him for so long?

Another thing that he mulled over was the selfless giving of the morning and her reasoning behind it. Severus, I wanted to give you that. It doesn't mean you owe me anything. I love you. That's what love is. In the past, he would never have considered giving a woman an orgasm without insisting upon having one in return. Would he do this for Hermione? Wake one morning, please her, and simply leave, expecting nothing? Yes. He could do that for her. But, that was different. She was his wife. My wife. The words sounded offending yet welcome at the same time. Oh, he'd left women unsatisfied before, but under certain circumstances, it was expected.

Why did he feel this...guilt for not being able to satisfy her? He knew that she loved sex with him and had begged for it in the past. He'd never failed to please her, always making sure that she was satiated. It was almost as if he feared that she'd think less of him, which was ridiculous. He'd clearly stated why he couldn't, and she'd accepted his reasoning. He vowed to give her many nights of pleasure as soon as Poppy said it was allowed. Hermione's words found him again. Just a couple of weeks. "Indeed," he said aloud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~

< I>ONE WEEK LATER

"Severus, wake up. Are you all right?" Hermione asked, sitting up to look at her husband. He was flinging about and muttering in his sleep. "Lumos," she said sleepily. Her wand lit next to the bed. She could make out his scowling expression and clenched fists. "Severus," she said a little more forcefully.

He bolted upright. "What is it?"

"You were having a nightmare. All right?"

"I was not dreaming," he said indignantly.

"You were," she insisted. "Just as you were last night. Is there something that I should know? Is something troubling you that I should know about aside from being landed with me?" She hadn't meant to sound so cross, but she wasn't feeling particularly well either.

"Where the bloody hell did that come from?" he roared after her words sunk in. "Have I not been good to you? Have I not been trying to make amends for past misdeeds? I wonder if anything that I do is good enough for you!"

To her horror, he bolted from the bed, threw on a bathrobe, and slammed out of the room. "I need to choose my words more carefully," she said softly, tears forming in her eyes. "Why did I say that?" She supposed that she'd simply wanted to take her mood out on him. She'd had a hard time falling asleep, what with that burning sensation in her throat and chest. It seemed like she'd only been asleep for minutes when his thrashing about woke her. To make things worse, the acid indigestion seemed to have come back. "Just bloody great!" she groused to herself. Instead of summoning a house-elf, she opted to walk to the kitchen. It wasn't that she wanted to save the elf the trouble, but she wanted to see where her husband had gone.

Lifting her wand, she stood and made her way out of their bedchambers. After their talk the previous week, he'd moved her things into his chambers and allowed her to place them as she wished. He'd truly been trying to be a good husband by keeping her content. Severus hadn't deserved the comment she'd given him earlier. Since they'd been back, he'd not made her feel like a burden. In fact, he seemed to enjoy having her around.

Hermione went down to the kitchen as quickly as she could. She hated walking about alone. It always felt as if someone were watching her. When she went down the stairs, she always gripped the railing extra firmly. She knew that it was likely because of the accident, but it never failed that her hair would prickle on the back of her neck. It was as if someone was gliding behind her blowing cool air onto her bare skin to cause gooseflesh to rise. A large fire was roaring in the kitchen, and one dimly lit lantern sat on the table in the center. She quickly fixed a glass of water in hopes of soothing the burning sensation in her throat.

"Do you wish to leave?"

The rich, deep sound of his voice startled her, causing her to drop the glass. It shattered loudly. "Ouch," she squealed, stepping back. "Ouch!" It seemed that she'd stepped on some of the glass with both feet. Strong arms quickly lifted her to seat her atop the table.

"Reparo," he said, repairing the glass.

She felt the tiny shards in her foot exit and make their way back to the glass to fit in where they belonged. Her fingers went to her feet while tears stung at her eyes. He wants me to leave. I should never have said anything. She made sure to not look at him while he lit more lights and examined her feet. In minutes, all pain and blood had been taken away. "I need some more water," she said softly, trying not to sniffle.

Severus filled her glass with fresh water and handed it to her. After she'd taken a healthy sip, he asked, "Are you ready to answer my question?"

"No."

"No, you aren't ready, or no, you don't want to leave?" he asked, eyeing her intently.

"Why would I want to leave?"

"Well, you clearly stated that you thought..."

"I was just grouchy. I've been up most of the night with ruddy heartburn again. I finally fell asleep, and you woke me up again with your nightmare. That's all well and good, mind, but you acted as if I'd lied about it." She looked away. "I shouldn't have said what I did. You've been good to me...to us."

"Very well, Hermione, but never again dare to assume my feelings on anything."

"Do you feel that way? Trapped, I mean?"

She watched the emotions flicker across his face and noted the deep breath that he sucked in and held. "I find our situation acceptable. I had never wanted to marry or have a child, as you already know, but I find myself not minding that you are here. Nor do I mind that we will have a child together."

"Would you change things?"

Another deep breath was sucked in. "No," he said while exhaling.

"Nor would I," she admitted. "Not even..." She hated to voice what she was going to say, but she felt as if he knew, at least on some level.

His hand found her face. "Hermione, I'm not in love with you, but I find myself...deeply appreciating the fact that you are my wife. I believe that we can have a successful marriage." Severus cocked an eyebrow at her. "However, you will need to refrain from such outbursts. Trust me when I say that I would definitely tell you if you were a burden to me. Where I once felt trapped, I now welcome the binding cords. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," she answered, lowering her head to rest on his shoulder. He loves me. Everything he says points to that. He would have allowed me to leave if I had said that I wanted to go, binding agreement be damned.

"Do you still feel trapped?"

"I am coping with our arrangements as well." She smiled and looked at him. "I wanted a life with you. It's not so far from what I used to dream of. I admit that I wish you would love me, but if all I can have is a deep appreciation, then I can be satisfied. You'll not be unfaithful to me, and you will love our child." She placed a finger over his lips. "I am certain you will love your son or daughter, Severus. You will be a good father regardless of your childhood."

What could he say to her that wouldn't hurt her? Could he admit that he'd been wondering about fatherhood? The advantages? Could he admit that he'd been reading a book whilst supposedly researching? Though he meant not to have many interactions with his child during the first few years, he was still interested in what to expect during the pregnancy, the birthing, and the beginning of its life. His father had never loved him. His father had only seen him as the next Snape, the boy to teach the ways of the family to, the disappointment. Love was for the maternal parent. No, he could not voice these things to his wife. Not in the present state of things at least, what with her fragile pregnancy. It would be something that she would just have to learn as time passed.

"Come to bed, wife," he said instead, helping her down to the floor.

"I wonder if there is anything I can take for this heartburn," she murmured as she pocketed her wand.

"You can't take anything just yet. It's your body causing it. Some of your muscles have relaxed and allowed acid to seep up into your oesophagus. I would suggest that you eat bland foods if you know that you will lie down. If you don't, stay on your feet for a little while, as the gravity will help to keep it in your stomach. It'll give you a chance to digest it," he said, remembering the information he'd read in his book. Damn. She's looking at me as if she suspects that I've been reading up on pregnancy.

"How do you know that?" she asked suspiciously.

He scoffed. "I may have heard it from Poppy."

"Right then." She looked at him slyly. "I wonder if it will last the entire pregnancy."

"For some women, yes, but for others, no. You will likely see it diminish in your next trimester if you are lucky," he said automatically. He realized his error when she smirked at him wickedly.

"You've been having a read about the pregnancy, haven't you?"

There was no need to deny it any longer. "What if I have?" he asked defensively. "It's better to remain prepa..."

"I think it's grand," she said with a broad grin.

"Are you mocking me?" he asked, noting the smug expression.

She stopped, lifted a hand to his cheek, and gently caressed his face. "I respect you for it, Severus. I would never mock you for seeking information on the unknown, especially not where your little one is concerned." All words that he might have said were cut off by her soft lips.

He simply pulled her up to straddle his waist and carefully made his way back to their bedroom. Placing her upon the bed, he broke the kiss to take off his bathrobe. "When is Poppy coming?"

"In three days," she said, lifting a hand to pull him back to her.

Severus groaned. "Three days can't come fast enough." He settled over her between her thighs, as if he would have been about to take her. Instead, he opted on snogging her, as she liked to call it. He knew that a few stolen kisses and soft caresses would soothe her and lull her into sleep. She needed some rest. He'd arranged with her parents for a surprise visit the next day. Her mother was coming to cheer her up, wanting to have an active part in decorating the nursery from what he gathered in the last letter.

There were a few rooms that needed airing out and possible redecorating. It was obvious that Hermione would eventually need her own study to house her books and work in. He decided to change his father's old room for her. It had large windows on two different walls, as it was on the corner of their house. The view of the grounds was lovely. She would like that room the best. He'd not been in it since his father passed away, but it was time to open the house up again. A family would be living within. Once that room was changed into a study, they would be left with their bedroom, the nursery, a spare room, and Hermione's old room. Once their child outgrew the nursery, they could move him into the room she had stayed in when they'd first come home.

The fingers that had curled around his hair slid away from him limply. With one last soft nuzzle on her neck, he looked up to find his wife sleeping. He'd made sure to not become too passionate with her, as he wasn't planning to arouse her. He merely wanted her to relax and sleep...and be happy. Annoyed suddenly that the word happy slipped into his thoughts, he moved up and turned away from her to get comfortable. A minute later, she spooned him from behind. Sighing resignedly, he pulled her arm around him and said, "This is becoming a habit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~

FOUR DAYS LATER

Hermione was slowly rocking back and forth in the freshly painted rocking chair next to the crib in the nursery. She and her mother had redecorated the entire room with the help of the two house-elves. Severus noted that her eyes were closed, and a small smile tugged at her lips. One hand was placed over her stomach. Why though, he wasn't sure. Her pregnancy wasn't all that discernible yet. As he inched closer, he stretched out a hand to touch her face. Within an inch from her cheek, he snatched his hand away and took a step back. He truly had to stop the madness that had overtaken him. It seemed that he wanted to touch her as often as possible.

Possibly because it has been a long time since I have had sex. He raised an eyebrow at the thought of sex. In the past, he would have gone off to seek pleasure elsewhere, but he would never do that. Not to her. Not now. It wasn't that he missed sex. He missed sex with Hermione. She was the only one that knew what he needed by a simple look, grunt, or gesture. No, no woman would ever compare to his wife. He watched the swell of her lovely breasts rising and falling with each breath and yearned to fondle them. "Poppy will be here shortly," he said, purposely breaking away from his thoughts. It wouldn't do to become aroused. He'd planned on having his wife the previous evening, but something had kept Poppy from visiting as previously arranged.

"I'll be down in a few minutes. I'm just thinking about the baby."

Not knowing what to say, he commented, "The room appears acceptable."

"We figured to go with a neutral theme. No matter if we have a boy or a girl, it will work well." She smiled, eyes still closed. "I'm glad you approve, Severus."

"A bookcase in a nursery?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Oh, honestly! I don't expect him or her to read, but I'd like to have the books here for when one of us chooses to read." She shrugged. "Besides, I think it looks rather nice."

He wanted to bite out that he'd not be reading any books to their child when he saw the types of books she'd placed there. "Muggle stories? I will not be reading these to him...or her."

"Those are from my parents. They are the very same books that they used to read to me out of. I just thought I would pass it on. I'm not ashamed of my heritage. I've some Wizarding stories in there as well." He saw that her lower lip pouted slightly. "I'll not remove them, but I'd be willing to change their appearance somewhat, if you're worried about anyone seeing."

What the hell? "That's not...keep them as they are," he said brusquely. "I've just never...where did you get these?" He pointed to the two bookends. They were made of stone and carved to resemble fairies. They seemed oddly familiar to him.

"Oh, we found those in a box under the crib. I thought they made a nice touch. Were they yours?" she asked, moving to stand with him. "I thought it'd be a nice touch. I have your comforter in the crib. Dilly..."

"Not that I know of," he said, interrupting her as he traced the silhouette of the fairy nearest him. "I do recall these somehow, but I'm not really clear on where I've seen them."

"One fairy is a boy, and the other is a girl. I assumed it would be fine no matter the sex of our child," she said.

"Acceptable," he said with a nod, looking at the fairies again. Where had he seen them?

"That one says Samara on the bottom. The girl fairy," she said. "Have anyone with that name in the family?"

He shook his head. "No."

"I've been looking in this book here," she pointed to a slender purple book. "It's a book full of baby names. It says that Samara means to be guarded by God. Isn't that nice? Perhaps someone simply named it."

"If we have a daughter, would you want name her that?"

"No," he said immediately, not sure why. "I won't name my child something like that, especially not knowing where it comes from.

"Do you even want to know what it is?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I thought you found them in a box."

She raised her hands in exasperation. "I'm talking about our baby, Severus. Do you care to know which gender it is? Poppy will be able to let me know today."

Yes. "No, I do not. If you will excuse me, I shall go down to do some research," he didn't like that he'd hurt her, but so be it. The hurt look disappeared and was replaced by a hopeful look.

"You're going to visit with Poppy as she checks the baby, right?"

"No, give her my regards," he said, turning on his heel to leave. He paused at the door. "I will check on you for lunch."

Hermione shook her head sadly. Would he always be this way? He hadn't even let her finished explaining that the male fairy had his name beneath it. Samara had to have been a family member. She'd hoped that he would be interested in what Poppy had to say. Giving him time to get into his laboratory, she slowly made her way down to the study. It wasn't long before Poppy came out and began checking her.

"Just as I said before, you're measuring bigger. I'm officially saying that you are just over thirteen weeks along. The little one seems to be getting on well." She nodded with approval. "I'm glad that my instructions were followed."

"I've mostly been in bed. It was hard, but we managed," Hermione said quickly.

"Ah, here we are. Listen to this," the mediwitch said

Hermione grinned broadly, realizing what the sound was. It was her child's heartbeat. "Oh! It sounds like my dad's windscreen wipers on his car!"

"It's strong and steady. I'd say the rate is at about one hundred and thirty-nine. Would you like to know the gender?"

"I would," Hermione said with an eager nod.

"A son." The older witch was pulled into a hug. "I see Severus isn't the only one that will be happy about this."

"Di-did he say that he wanted a son?" Hermione asked hopefully.

Poppy gave a small smile. "No, lass, he didn't, but don't worry. He'll be happy to know that he has sired a son first. They all are. Family name and all that rubbish."

"Oh," she said, disappointment shrouding her.

"How are you feeling?" Poppy asked, ending the spell that allowed them to hear the heartbeat. "All right?"

"All right," Hermione said with a sigh. "I'm not crying so much. I had that bad for a while. I suppose I was still in the midst of the grieving process. I still am, to be honest. I can't help but wonder..." She smiled wistfully.

"Don't let it bring you down. You've this boy to think on. Your body should be getting used to the hormones being unbalanced by now. It's a big change that's taking place within you. I suppose that you can get back to normal activities just so you don't overdo it. Let's see...ah, yes! Sex, nothing rough for now. Walking, in moderation. No need to overexert yourself. Keep taking your vitamins and rest when you can. Lord knows you'll need it soon enough. Try not to stress over things."

"Fair enough," Hermione agreed. She'd felt a small tingle in her belly at the mention of sex. She couldn't wait for her husband to become one with her again. It had been far too long.

"You've no other problems?"

"Heartburn."

"Tell Severus that it should be safe to give you a mild potion for it. Try to mind what you eat though," she warned. "And, Severus? How are the pair of you getting on?"

Suddenly defensive of her husband, she bit out, "We're getting on fine, thanks. He's good to me."

Poppy waved her comment away with her hand as if to dismiss her. "I am glad that things appear to be working out. I wondered if he'd take my advice."

"You gave him advice? On what?"

"That is between he and I, but I'll give you a bit as well," the older witch said. "You'll need to be curving your impulsiveness and need to start thinking things through. You can't just be running off when things won't go your way. You're in a magically bound relationship now, Hermione. Your husband may be a difficult man, but he's nothing that you can't handle if you use that head of yours."

Stunned, she watched as the matron put her wand away. "I...all right," she said. "I appreciate your concern, and I am grateful that you're taking time out of your holiday to come here to help us."

A warm smile was her immediate answer. The witch made her way to the grate. "I will see you in about a month. Floo me to make arrangements. If something happens before that, don't hesitate to let me know or to go to St. Mungo's."

"We won't," Hermione said, smiling as the blunt woman disappeared in the Floo. What the hell was that all about? She wasn't one to mince words, was she? She supposed that some things she'd done could be seen as careless or immature, but she'd be damned if anyone could say that now. She was in this until the end. Her marriage would work. In fact, it was time to show her husband how she truly felt about him. Would he be accepting of her proposition? Surely he wouldn't mind an afternoon of lovemaking. She quickly moved to their chambers to bathe and prepare herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus checked the lower rooms for Hermione before venturing upstairs. With each increasing step, he wondered if something had gone wrong. He assumed she would try to tell him about the visit immediately. He was so lost in his own thoughts and work that he hadn't noticed. Only the rumbling of his stomach brought his attention to the time. He checked the nursery first. He was surprised that she'd parted from the room. She'd been in it constantly since she and her mother had redecorated it. Quickly, he went to their chambers. Empty. As he turned to leave, he heard something in the bathroom. "Hermione?"

The light extinguished itself, and the only light in the entire room came from a slither of an opening in the heavy drapery. It was enough though. He could see her. She was standing in the archway of the bathroom door. She appeared to have a very short, white nightgown on. He could almost guess which one it was. It had to be the one with the sheer material that he loved to see her in. He made his way towards her, and she began walking towards him. When she was in reach, he asked softly, "Does this mean you have been cleared by Poppy?" Her lips found his in answer, and he groaned. Yes, I will have you. Too long have I been without you.

Hermione moved back away from him to lift the nightie over her head. She wore nothing beneath it. His hands immediately went to her breasts. She placed her hands over his, stilling their movements. Kissing each lightly, she placed them back at his side and stepped closer to unbutton his linen shirt. With each button that she unfastened, she placed a kiss on his bare chest while lowering herself. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, she was kneeling in front of him, unfastening his belt and trousers. She smiled to herself as she felt him tense with anticipation as her lips followed his trousers down, placing kisses on his legs. Both boots were quickly discarded, and the trousers were pulled away. As she open-mouth kissed her way back up to his waist, she felt him trying to arch into her, his need increasing. She lowered his boxer shorts and placed the lightest of kisses on the tip of his erection.

"Hermione," he mumbled, grasping her hair with his fingers. Relenting, she tongued her way around his diameter and kissed her way back up his bare chest. Small, appreciative grunts were her rewards. Once standing before him again, she eased his shirt away from his shoulders and watched as it hit the floor. Her hands found their way to his chest and began slowly gliding about. Her nails gently scraped against his skin to erotically trace the hairline down his stomach.

"I'm going to show you how I feel about you," she said softly. Hermione's mouth moved to his chest, and her hands came back up to accompany it. She kissed, licked, suckled, and caressed nearly every part of his chest and stomach until he began to shift anxiously. It was then that she pulled him back to the bed with her. She sat down and left him standing between her legs. She pulled one of his hands up to cover a breast, smiling when he began groping her expertly. Looking into the dark depths of his eyes, nearly uncertain where the shadows ended and his pupils began, she brought her mouth to his for a kiss.

Ever so slowly, their tongues entwined and lips melded together. One of her hands moved to twist through his hair while the other found his firm arse. His free hand was cupping her cheek gently, making her feel delicate and cherished. She broke away from him slightly, resting her hands on his shoulders as she lay back, pulling him down on top of her. His lips found hers again as one hand snaked down to the juncture of her thighs where his fingers began preparing her core for his girth.

"Oh," she murmured, arching into him. He began to caress her more firmly, causing ripples of pleasure to drift through her.

"I've missed this," he said seductively. In one smooth motion, he pulled her up further onto the bed and positioned himself between her thighs.

Hermione closed her eyes as he inched into her. "I've also missed this." She lifted one leg to drape over his waist and let the other snake over one of his thighs to help to anchor her body beneath his. She pulled him close to her once he was completely sheathed within. Severus appeared to be revelling in the feel of her heat, as he hadn't moved since he'd eased in. "What's wrong?" she asked finally, bringing both hands to his face.

He opened his eyes and gazed at her intently. "Will I harm anything? Will our child be all right if we do this?"

She smiled. "So long as we don't get too rough, we'll be fine. Our son will be fine." Seeing the realization and pride light his eyes, she kissed him and tried to pour everything she felt into the kiss. The deeply passionate kiss continued endlessly as he slowly began to move within her, pulling nearly all the way out and easing all the way back in. They moved together effortlessly, each savoring the taste and feel of the other. Finally needing to concentrate on the impending orgasm, she pulled her lips from his to arch into him. He lay his head on her shoulder as he thrust into her with quick yet gently steady strokes. A few grinds from her pelvis had her crying out. "Oh, Severus, I love you. Oh! Yes, oh..." She felt as if she would burst with the feelings flowing through her.

Her husband began his jerky orgasm immediately after, mumbling incoherent words onto the flesh of her shoulder as he did so. Once he stopped moving, she tightened her hold on him, legs and arms entrapping him.

"I could stay like this for always, you know," she murmured and then kissed his head affectionately. Happy thoughts and the feeling of completeness relaxed her so much that she fell asleep.

Severus pulled away from her easily, making sure he didn't wake her. Once away, he found his trousers, pulled out his wand, and cleaned off their bodies. He pulled on a bathrobe and made his way back to their bed. His sleeping, lovely wife lay peacefully in the middle of the bed facing the wrong way. He smirked lightly and covered her as best as he could. Running his fingers through his hair, he almost felt the need to shout, cry, or explode. He left the room quickly and stood near the banister on the landing to look down to the bottom floor.

He'd never experienced anything like they'd just shared. What had come over him? Did she hear what he said as he reached culmination? If she had, she didn't say anything about it. The words he'd mumbled repeated in his mind continuously. I love you. I love you. I need you. Always.

Why? Where had those words come from? It's just been too long since we've been intimate in this way. There is a reason such words would slip out. That had to be it. "No, I do love her," he said, feeling disgusted with himself. "I've gone and ruined things." He blindly made his way down to his study to open a new bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky. "Impossible," he said, casting an accusing gaze at this reflection. "She's just a girl. Just a...she's my wife." He rubbed his temples as if trying to rid himself of the unwanted feelings, but they remained. Taking his bottle from the desk, he made his way to his father's old room, opened the door, and went to sit near the rear set of windows.

"Well, I suppose you'd be happy to know that I have become a weakened foo..." He sat up quickly, dropping his bottle. "What the fuck is that?" he asked aloud, blinking to be sure he was seeing correctly. A door appeared where there had only been a wall. There was a dusty parchment spelled to stick to it. He swiftly made his way to the door and recognized his father's writing immediately.

Son,

An old fool

Severus backed away until the chair halted his retreat. For some reason, he knew that to go into that room would mean that he'd have to face things that he wasn't ready to face. What secret did his father have? Why would he have to fall in love to read his father's last words to him? What final act of trickery had his father played at? Would he make a mockery of his marriage to his wife? His thoughts darkened at the thought of the old man speaking out against his life with Hermione and his child. But, why would he sign the letter as being an old fool?

"Why now?" he asked scornfully. He plopped down onto the chair and cradled his head in his hands. What should he do? What did the old arse want him to see? What if the room was cursed? The note could have been strategically worded to lure him into a false sense of security. Maybe the moment he entered, a hex would befall him or worse...maybe the bastard had found a way to harm the one that Severus had fallen in love with. That would be a likely last act of revenge.

The first thought that came to mind then was to ask Hermione, but he wouldn't dare let her see him in such a state. If he had become weak, there was no reason for her to know about it. Stealing himself for whatever repercussions may come of his actions, he walked to the door once more. As his hand touched the knob, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He'd just come to the realization that he loved his wife. He'd just found out that she would bear him a son to carry on his family name. If something sinister lay in wait for him, would he die a content man? Would his folly of needing her in his life be his ruin? Would it be worth it?

"Yes, it would," he muttered. "She'll understand." With that, he opened the door and sputtered as stale air rushed out to grope at his lungs. Once the dusty air settled, he pointed his wand into the darkened room. "Lumos," he said loudly. At once, four different lanterns lit to reveal a medium-sized room. He cautiously stepped into the room. The walls, the ceiling, and the desk seemed to be littered with odd bits of parchment. It was his father's handwriting on every single piece. He strode towards the desk and read from one.

I'm sorry. Forgive me. I need you. Come back.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked. Who had his father been writing to? The right drawer on the desk was partially opened. He hesitantly opened the drawer. To his relief, no creature was within. There was only one device inside. A Pensieve. "What do you want me to see?" he asked quietly, reaching to place the Pensieve atop the desk.

"Hello, Severus," a feminine voice said from behind him. It was not the voice of his wife. It had been decades, but he'd never forget her voice.

"Mother?" He turned around and stepped back in shock. There was a large portrait on the wall, and his mother was the occupant.

"Don't look so surprised, son. I've been wondering when you'd get around to visiting me. I'm not sure how long it has been, but it seems that much time has gone by since your father last came to me." She smiled and laughed lightly. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"Yes," he breathed. As hard as it was, he tore his eyes away from hers and truly looked around the room. Aside from hundreds of used parchment bits, there was her portrait, a shelf with candles lining its top beneath her, the desk, a chair, and empty liquor bottles. "Did he make a shrine to you?" She nodded, smiling sadly. "How did I not know?"

"School," she said. "I'm afraid that I am instructed to not talk to you until you've had a look into his Pensieve and read through his letters. I know you must have questions."

"I do," he said. He panicked as she began to walk away. "Mother!" She looked back. "Why did you leave us? Why did you not choose me?"

She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid, son, that I was created before any of that took place. As far as I remembered, I had only you. You've grown into a fine man, Severus. I am happy to know that you've married a most lovely witch. Am I correct in understanding that a child is on the way?"

"Yes," he admitted. "How do you know?"

"Near the stairway to the left, I am part of that mirror. In the study to your right, I am part of that mirror as well. You can see only your reflection while I can see you and all that goes on. It was a request that your father granted for me. I'm not allowed to visit other portraits or to have them visit me. Please, I can say no more. Look into the Pensieve. May those questions you asked yourself earlier be answered."

He walked to the portrait to touch her, but she walked out of the frame before he got there. Severus Snape was gobsmacked. He never knew that a portrait of his mother had been created. Why would his father have a room with such things? Did he love her? He decided to look at some of the messages that his father had left. "Unlimited time is all I have left, but I would trade all of it for a only minute with you." He smirked. "What an idiot! Who would write such things? This has to be a joke." He looked around the room suspiciously. "Is this your idea of a game?" he called out loudly. Another snippet caught his attention. "I am willing myself to join you, but as punishment, it isn't working."

Severus sat down on the dusty chair and simply looked around. It would take time to take each parchment down, read through them, and make any sense of them. But, he could have a look at the Pensieve. The suspicious part of him wondered if there were any enchantments on it. Would he be sucked in never to return? The sensible part of him believed that his father had honorable intentions when leaving these things behind. "Honorable?" he queried aloud. He shook his head in disgust, reached for the Pensieve, and headed for the door. When he neared the door, a note caught his attention. He read, "Our son helped to defeat Lord Voldemort. You would be proud." He scoffed sourly. "Proud indeed."

Proud of the bitter, selfish man that he'd become? A man that would likely never tell his wife that he loves her? A man that couldn't understand the ways of relationships or ways that a family could truly be happy? A man that enjoyed being sarcastic? A man that liked to see others fail at things simply because he found it amusing? "Yes, my mother would be so proud," he muttered sardonically. He made his way back to their chambers to check on Hermione. His hardened expression softened momentarily. She still lay there sleeping contentedly. The warm feeling that he felt previously had come back in full force. He stepped back and closed the door quickly. Now was not the time to explore untrained feelings. He wondered if his mother was watching him from the mirror as he descended the stairway and entered the study. Closing the door behind him, he went to his desk. It was now or never. He had to find out what his father wanted him to know.

Deep down he had a feeling that all the lecturing that his father had done had been for naught. Had his father succumbed to the weakness after all? Was it not worth it? Is that why he tried to warn him about it? From the looks of that room, it appeared the man had lowered himself greatly from the strong man that he once was. He'd become a puling, old fool that scribbled for his lost love at every spare moment. He warily looked at the lightly swirling mists nearing the surface of the Pensieve before him.

Would things change in his marriage after he witnessed the memories? Would things be better or worse? He'd only just realized that he loved his wife, but would those feelings change if he witnessed a broken man that had been his father? He didn't know if he could handle seeing the arrogant bastard reduced to a grieving fool. If that was the case, he knew that he would quell his budding feelings for his wife, as he would not want to become what he feared most. He craved respect, dominance, and selfishly insisted on things going his way. He liked who he was. He didn't want to change. He couldn't change. This was who he was, and this was what he'd always be.

Hermione loves me as I am. "But, what if I change without meaning to, good or bad? Will she still want me?"

Southern's Notes: You will likely notice that Harry didn't come for a visit. I decided to change some things around. I needed for Severus and Hermione to become closer here without interruptions from outsiders. The things he will witness are going to truly confuse and bother him.

Up Next: We'll see the Pensieve memories, some of the notes, and how Hermione tries to help him cope with his findings. I promised that I would never have a Soft!Severus in this story. I hope that you agree that he's not changed all that much. He's nicer, yes, but he only tried to be nice (or his excuse for it) was because of Poppy's advice. I think the relationship is developing at a nice, leisurely pace. More up soon. And, Harry will come for a visit.