Revelations

Disclaimer: JKR owns it all. I'm just having fun.

Chapter Nine

Revelations

Hermione sat on the quilt-covered bed in the room she and Severus had shared for the past three nights, her hands clasped in her lap as she stared sullenly out the window. It was raining – pouring, actually – and that suited her mood just fine. They were leaving in a few hours, returning to London and to their regular lives – lives that did not accommodate spending every moment with each other. Petulantly, she decided she did not want to go home – she wanted to stay here in the little cottage in Dorset with Severus.

The past few days had been halcyon ones – the best Hermione had ever known. Hours had been spent in conversation, ranging from the inane to the intellectual. They had taken long walks through the rolling countryside, along lanes flanked by fields of poppies and cornflowers, the air fragrant with the smell of wild garlic. She had enjoyed their leisurely strolls and talking with Severus about any little thing that came to mind. She now knew more than anyone about the typically taciturn wizard she wished to call her own – and he had learnt about her, as well.

The evenings had been spent sharing meals at the small kitchen table before adjourning to the sitting room to read, talk, or simply relax in comfortable silence. Eventually, Severus would stand, offering her his hand to lead her up the stairs to the bedroom where they spent passion-filled nights revelling in each other until their desire was sated. Hermione would then snuggle next to him, her head upon his shoulder, her toes brushing against the bristly hair of his calves, until she drifted to sleep, only to see him in her dreams. Each morning she would awaken spooned against him, her back to his front, his heavy arm clasping her to him as if she might disappear if he let her go.

Hermione sighed; she wished they could stay here for a few more days – maybe even forever – although she supposed that wasn't practical.

The bed dipped suddenly as Severus sat down behind her. Resting his chin upon her shoulder, he waited a few moments before quietly asking, "What is the matter, sweet?"

Twisting to face him, Hermione buried her face in his neck, her hands clinging to him, but she remained silent, not wanting to make an utter fool of herself.

Gently, he comforted her, his strong hands stroking her back until she relaxed in his arms. She felt him attempt to crane his neck to see her face, but she simply turned her head, hiding her sulky expression from his view.

"Hermione. Tell me."

She sighed into his shoulder before turning her head to snuggle back into his neck. "I'm just being silly," she said dejectedly.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Let me be the judge of that. Now, tell me what is bothering you to the extent that you feel the need to hide from me."

Hearing the tinge of concern in his voice, guilt flooded her. Raising shocked eyes to his, she quickly began to explain. "I'm not hiding from you! Honestly, I'm not! It's just ... we're leaving today," she finished lamely.

Severus nodded solemnly, one corner of his mouth lifting minutely. "We are."

Looking everywhere but into his eyes, Hermione worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment before blurting out, "I don't want to go!" and throwing her arms around his neck, clasping him to her with all her strength.

"Ah. Now, I understand," he said as he stroked her hair.

She leant back to look at him at last. "You do?"

The small, soft smile she was quickly becoming familiar with appeared as he replied, "Of course I do. You are afraid that once we return to London and to our normal, everyday lives that what we have found here with each other will somehow disappear. Am I correct?" Hermione nodded sadly, and Severus smoothed her riotous curls away from her face before continuing, his voice soothing her overwrought emotions. "There is nothing to worry about. Whilst we obviously cannot continue as if we are on perpetual holiday, we will still see each other – every day, if I have any say in the matter."

Relieved by his assurances, Hermione smiled, then kissed him fiercely. Severus responded with equal ferocity, lowering her to the bed and covering her body with his as he whispered, "You'll not be rid of me that easily."

***

"Come on, Severus – we're late!" Hermione admonished, rushing through the door of Order headquarters and swiftly moving toward the stairs to the basement kitchen.

They had Apparated directly to Grimmauld Place after realising that this evening was the monthly gathering of Order members. He was certain the meeting would not have yet begun, but his little witch was adamant that they hurry.

Severus rolled his eyes as he reached out to grab Hermione by the arm, tugging her toward him as she sputtered in indignation at his "high-handed behaviour." Ignoring her continued ranting about the need for punctuality, he placed his hands on either side of her head and lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her thoroughly before releasing her.

"Now we may enter 'the lion's den,'" he intoned, raising an arm toward the basement stairs.

Hermione stared at him blankly before asking, "What was that for?"

Pleased by her dazed expression, Severus smirked as he led her down the stairs to the kitchen. "So that you will be thinking of me and no one else."

She laughed, the delightful sound reverberating in the narrow hallway. "I don't think that will be a problem."

He raised a questioning brow. "No?"

Stifling her laughter, she replied, "Definitely not. Just being in the same room with you will ensure that my thoughts lie solely with you."

Feeling particularly smug with her response, Severus pushed open the kitchen door, holding it to allow Hermione to enter. As she walked past him into the kitchen, he whispered, "Perhaps later more than just your thoughts will lie solely with me."

Rather than the maidenly blush he expected, Hermione paused and brushed against him as she quietly murmured, "Perhaps so, if you are very good – but then I already know how good you are."

Her suggestive tone shot straight to his groin, and he felt himself begin to harden. Good gods, he thought as he followed Hermione into the kitchen, she really is going to be the death of me. He only hoped no one would notice the rather obvious bulge in his trousers.

He needn't have worried; his ardour was immediately cooled once he saw the disapproving countenances of Molly Weasley and Minerva McGonagall. Strange, he thought. Where is everyone? Rather than a full Order meeting, it appeared only the Lupins, the Potters, Arthur, Molly, Minerva, Miss Lovegood, Draco, and the Weasley whelp were present. Curiously, it was the same group that had discussed the prophecy all those months ago. Was there some connection? Severus pushed aside the thought; it was merely coincidence.

The lack of regular chatter was disconcerting; he had never heard this group so quiet. Surprised by the chilly reception, Severus warily escorted Hermione to the chair next to Miss Lovegood, pulling it out and allowing her to be seated before lowering himself into the adjacent chair. Severus glanced around the room; many were either scowling at them or staring curiously. Sensing her anxiety, he raised Hermione's fingers to his lips to place a chaste kiss upon the back of her hand.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON, HERMIONE?!"

Severus was on his feet in an instant, wand in hand, glaring at the wizard who had dared to raise his voice to his witch.

Delicate fingers touched his wrist, urging him to lower his wand. Grudgingly, Severus did so, glaring at the red-faced young man who was now standing on the other side of the table.

Potter had jumped to his feet as well, placing a restraining hand on his friend's shoulder. "What are you doing, mate? You can't shout at her," he said, keeping his voice low.

Weasley tensed, his expression becoming uncertain for a fraction of a second before hardening again. "Yes, I can – and I will, too, until she comes to her senses!" His eyes shifted to Hermione. "What the hell is going on between you and Snape? TELL ME!"

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione chastised her former fiancé as she too leapt to her feet. "Do not yell at me! What is your problem?"

Moving to stand slightly behind Hermione, Severus determined that she was the best person to handle the situation with the irate young man. Sensing that the youngest male Weasley was not the only distressed person in the room, he kept his wand in hand in case it should become necessary for them to make either a hasty retreat or fight. Given the amount of hostility being generated, he wasn't completely certain it would not come to that.

"You want to know what my problem is?" Weasley pointed an accusing finger at Severus. "Him, Hermione! He's my problem!" The ginger-haired young man folded his arms over his chest, glaring down at the petite witch. "How could you?" he accused.

Hermione gaped, her jaw dropping in surprise before she snapped it shut, her mouth tightening in anger. "How could I what?" she demanded.

Weasley ignored her question, throwing his hands up in the air and gesticulating wildly. "What are you doing with him? Bloody hell, Hermione. You're meant for Charlie! Or have you conveniently forgotten about that little thing I like to call a PROPHECY?!" he raged, his voice increasing in volume with each word.

Severus must have blinked because the next thing he knew Hermione had her own wand levelled at Weasley's face.

"I believe I told you not to yell at me," she stated pointedly, her tone cold.

Perfectly content to allow Hermione to hex the boy to perdition, Severus took another step back, allowing his witch plenty of room for any necessary wand movements. Minerva ruined the moment, however, by stepping in – damn busybody – and placing an interfering arm in front of Hermione, causing her to lower her wand although she continued to glower at Weasley.

"Miss Granger!" Minerva tartly admonished. "There will be no wands raised in this room. Is that clear?"

Keeping her gaze firmly on Weasley, Hermione said, "Pardon me, Minerva, but you are no longer my professor nor my leader, and if Ronald continues to raise his voice to me, I will not only raise my wand, I will use it!"

Weasley blanched at the blatant threat but did not relax his angry posture.

"Come now, children," Molly soothed, attempting to diffuse the situation, "let's sit down at the table and discuss this like reasonable witches and wizards."

Reluctantly, everyone returned to their seats, and Hermione laced her fingers with Severus', placing their entwined hands on the table, her eyes narrowing at Weasley as if daring him to comment. Weasley, however, slouched in his chair, refusing to as much as look in Hermione's direction. Severus squeezed her fingers in silent support; she might have appeared to be merely angry to the others, but he knew she was feeling confused and hurt by the vitriol aimed at her by one of her best friends.

"Right, then," Molly said. Her words were calm, but Severus clearly heard the underlying tension in her voice. "Now that we're all seated and ... erm ... somewhat calmer, let's discuss the situation at hand."

Severus couldn't remain silent any longer. "I beg your pardon, Molly, but exactly what 'situation' are you referring to?" he asked neutrally.

Molly slid her eyes to Severus, her lips tightening in reproof before she primly replied, "You know perfectly well to which 'situation' I am referring, Severus. Do not play coy with me."

Stiffening at her accusatory words, Severus flatly denied the witch's assertion. "Madam, I assure you, I do not know of what you speak; and furthermore, I am deeply offended by the manner in which you and, to a greater extent, your son have been treating Miss Granger and me this evening."

"Now, Severus," Minerva warned. "Let's not be so hasty. There is a point to this discussion – a point that many of us agree you and Hermione are both ignoring."

"Spit it out, then, Minerva!" Severus snapped, irritated at being treated like some delinquent child.

Minerva opened her mouth to explain when Weasley angrily broke his silence. "She's supposed to be with Charlie! There's your 'point,' you bastard! That's what the prophecy says, that's why I gave her up – to be with Charlie, not with a mean, sarcastic, greasy GIT!"

Hermione jumped to her feet, indignation rolling off of her in waves. "Leave Severus out of this, Ron! What you just said is an outright lie! You know perfectly well that we ended our engagement because we both realised we didn't love each other that way! And I have told you a million times – Charlie Weasley is NOT my soul mate!"

"Did I hear my name?"

A collective gasp arose from the group – in ordinary circumstances, Severus might have found it humorous – as all eyes turned to the kitchen doorway.

Severus sat back in his chair, wearily running a hand over his face; things were about to get very interesting.

Charlie Weasley had arrived.

***

Hermione could not remember a time when she had been angrier. Although no one but Ron had dared to actually say so, it appeared that most of the room believed the prophecy was true and that Charlie Weasley was her soul mate. Obviously, Molly and Ron were upset that she was ignoring the prophecy and seeing Severus; it seemed they were upset with Severus as well, probably blaming him for "stealing" her away or some such nonsense.

And now, Charlie had arrived. Hermione panicked briefly – what if he believed the prophecy? What if he tried to take her away from Severus? Then she calmed, secure in her feelings for Severus and the knowledge that he would never let anyone force her to leave him. With a serene expression, she resumed her seat to observe the events as they unfolded.

"Charles Weasley," Molly scolded, rushing forward to hug her second-born. "Where have you been, young man? We've been sending owls for almost four months!"

The stocky redhead grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I know, Mum. I got your first owl – hey there, Hermione – but after Ron left, I had to go out to the field, and we don't get owls out there. I just got back yesterday, saw the stack of letters on my desk, and figured I'd best get to London to see what's going on."

Molly gave him a chastising look before saying, "Well, at least you're finally here. This situation is simply a mess, and you have to sort it!"

Charlie eyed first his mother, then the rest of the room warily. "Sort what?"

"Honestly, Charlie," Molly complained. "Do try to pay attention! The prophecy, dear – remember that? You and Hermione are soul mates, and now this ... this ... interloper is s-seducing her!" Molly cried, her cheeks reddening slightly with her words.

Running a hand through his red hair, Charlie sighed. "Calm down, Mum. No one is interloping anywhere." His mother made as if to protest, but he shushed her, calmly stating, "The prophecy isn't talking about me."

"'Course it is," Ron said, visibly thrilled that his brother had arrived. He brandished the original written copy of Luna's words. "Here, take a look. See? 'Dragon saviour,' 'sun of the phoenix' – that's you! Read it for yourself."

Charlie took the piece of parchment and sat down at the table, discomfort evident in his manner. Hermione watched as a fine sheen of perspiration appeared on Charlie's brow as he carefully read over the prophecy. She had to admit, she was curious to hear his interpretation. When he was finished reading, he tossed the parchment to the table.

"Well, I'll admit it does sound like me –" Hermione's face fell, whilst Ron's appeared triumphant – until Charlie continued, "but it isn't."

"What?!"

"Now, Charlie –"

"I told you!"

"I think you should read it again."

The room was now abuzz, everyone simultaneously offering his or her opinion. Hermione noticed that Minerva seemed to fall in line with the Weasley matriarch's and Ron's interpretation, whilst Luna, Ginny, Tonks, and – to her surprise – Malfoy appeared to be more sympathetic to her way of thinking, the latter going so far as to wink at her, which was actually a bit disconcerting. The remaining three men – Arthur, Remus, and Harry – seemed content to let their wives do the talking, watching observantly but not participating in the raucous discussion.

Finally, Molly's voice cut through the din. "Charles Arthur Weasley," she shrieked, "I cannot believe that you would deny this sweet, beautiful girl ..."

"Mum," Charlie interrupted.

"... How could you do such a thing?"

"Mum ..."

"I did not raise you to shirk your responsibilities in such a callous manner and furthermore ..."

"Mum! Please, listen to me. I swear to you – it's not talking about me! It's impossible!"

Hermione's eyes widened. Impossible? She was on the edge of her seat in anticipation for what he would say next. Clutching Severus' hand tightly, she listened attentively.

"Impossible? What do you mean, Charlie? Of all the flimsy excuses I've heard in my life, this one takes the Snitch. You ..."

"I'm gay!"

That shut everyone up.

Molly was the first to recover. "W-what did you say?"

"I wasn't planning to ever say anything, Mum, but you've forced my hand. I'm gay. Is that proof enough that I'm not Hermione's soul mate?" he said, exasperated that he had been forced to disclose such personal information in front of a roomful of people.

"But you and Hermione ..."

Charlie stood and embraced his mother. "There is no me and Hermione, Mum, and there never will be. I realise you're disappointed in me ..."

"Disappointed in you?" Molly asked, genuinely confused. "I must admit, I am disappointed that you and Hermione aren't soul mates – I really wanted her to be an official Weasley – but I could never be disappointed in you. Why would you say such a thing?"

Bending to rest his forehead on his mother's shoulder, Charlie muttered, "I thought you'd be upset about having a gay son."

"Well, that is just ridiculous! You are my son, and I will always be proud of you," Molly said matter-of-factly, embracing him before releasing him to slap his arm. "Honestly! I would hope that you think better of me than that." She sniffed; then, with a far too innocent look, asked, "Are you seeing anyone?"

Charlie rolled his eyes and excused himself to go wash up for dinner, his mother following him out of the room, chattering on about which of her friends had sons he might want to consider asking out.

Silence reigned in the kitchen. Ron looked thoroughly baffled by the turn of events, as did most of the others in the room. Several minutes passed before he spoke. "Well, if it isn't Charlie, and it isn't me, then who is it?"

Hermione could have screamed. She had hoped Charlie's revelation would signal an end to all of this useless conjecture. She sighed; that would have been too easy, she supposed.

She was about to tell Ron where he could shove his speculations when Harry asked, "What about Malfoy? I was just kidding last time, but maybe it really is him!" He appeared horrified by the idea even as he voiced it.

Draco groaned dramatically. "Why must you insist on dragging me into this?" he whinged, casting a wary glance at Severus.

Even before Draco had finished speaking, Hermione was on her feet. "Let's go, Severus," she said. "I would like to leave." He seemed surprised by her request but stood to escort her from the kitchen.

"Hermione, wait!" Ron entreated. "You can't leave now – we still have to figure out who your soul mate is!"

Something inside of her snapped. "Enough!" she shouted. "I don't care about whom you lot think my soul mate is. I don't care about what the prophecy says. I. Do. Not. Care! I am with Severus, and I am not interested in anyone else. Is that clear?"

"But Hermione, just listen a second ..."

"No! You listen to me. I am finished discussing this with you. I am telling you right now, if there is anyone in this world who is my soul mate, it is Severus Snape," she declared, grabbing his hand and pulling him to her side. "And do you know why? Because I love him. I love him. Do you understand what I am saying? I love him. I'm in love with him. This man ... right here. I love him. I love his intelligence, his sarcastic wit, his wicked sense of humour. I love his greasy hair, and his black eyes, and his crooked, yellow teeth. I love how he accepts me as I am, that he doesn't care that I'm a bookworm, or that I'm bossy, or that I have wild, crazy hair. I love that he doesn't want to change me, and I love that I don't want to change him! He speaks to me – do you hear me? He speaks to my heart, to my mind, to my very soul, and if that isn't good enough for you, then sod you! I don't care what you think! He's the one for me, damn it – prophecy or no prophecy, he's the one I want!"

Tears were coursing down her cheeks as she reached the end of her rant, and she angrily wiped them away, struggling to regain her composure.

"You love me?"

Hermione jumped, startled to hear Severus' voice. Caught up in the moment, she had completely forgotten he was standing right next to her. She turned to face him, daring to look no higher than his chest, a little afraid of what she might see in his dark eyes. Gentle fingers raised her chin until her gaze met his, and she gasped at what she saw. Severus' own eyes glistened with emotion, and before she could utter a word, he swept her up in a bruising kiss. Raising his head, he stared deeply into her eyes before crushing her to him in a tight embrace.

"Take me home, Severus," she whispered.

He leant back to see her face. "Home?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, to your flat, to my room, to the cottage in Dorset .... It doesn't matter; wherever you are is home to me."

***

Severus swept her into his arms, more than willing to carry her all the way to the Apparition point, through Diagon Alley, and up the stairs into his flat. He wanted to take her to his home, to love her in his bed – now.

"Wait!" Minerva called to them. "What about the prophecy?"

He sighed. They wouldn't be able to let it go unless he told them everything. Looking down into Hermione's loving eyes, he knew what he had to do.

Slowly, he lowered Hermione's feet to the floor, but held her tightly to his side. "What about the prophecy, Minerva?" he asked, pretending he did not see Hermione's curious look.

"We still don't know to whom it is referring, Severus. Surely you understand – we only want what is best for both of you! I don't want to see either of you hurt should some other man come into the picture at a later date. Please – can't you see? We need to resolve this somehow," she pleaded.

Glancing briefly at Hermione, Severus sat down at the head of the kitchen table. "Fetch me a quill, Minerva. Mrs Potter, please pass the copy of the prophecy. Thank you."

With a deep breath, he took the quill and wrote a few words, and then left the table, leaving the parchment behind. Instantly the rest of the group crowded in, and there was a short scuffle over who would get to read it first. Potter apparently won, snatching the parchment off the table. The others gathered around him, reading over his shoulder.

"Well, bugger me," Potter said, absentmindedly passing the parchment to those behind him.

Weasley cleared his throat. "That's surprising, eh? Who knew prophecies could be so vague." He ignored Hermione's glare. He scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, when you look at it like that, it's obviously talking about Snape, but when you look at it the other way .... Merlin, Hermione – no wonder you hate Divination so much!"

Hermione, however, wasn't listening as the others began discussing the ambiguity of the wording – she had been handed the copy of the prophecy. Severus watched as she stared at the piece of parchment, her eyes scanning the words repeatedly until she lowered her arm, the paper falling from her loosened fingers to the floor. In a daze, she sat down in the nearest chair, staring at the top of the table as she mulled over the words she had just read.

Concerned, Severus crouched beside her, "Hermione?"

Her gaze remained fixed on the table as she quietly asked, "How long have you known?"

"Since the moment the words were spoken," Severus replied.

She nodded woodenly. "Explain."

"Albus was more of a father to me than Tobias Snape ever was." Severus cringed at the slightly pleading tone in his voice.

"S-o-n. 'Son of the phoenix.' The headmaster cared for you as if you were his son," she said dispassionately.

Severus blinked at her tone, but responded, "Yes. So much so that he named me his heir in his will."

Hermione's eyes closed. "And the other?"

Picking up the parchment from the floor, he glanced at what he had written. He had crossed out the words "dragon saviour," replacing them with "Dragon's saviour." Tossing the parchment onto the table, he shrugged. "Potter was partially correct. 'Draco' does in fact mean 'dragon.' I believe it is referring to the events of five years ago when I saved Draco's life."

Again, Hermione nodded, but did not look at him. Finally, she raised her eyes to his – eyes so full of pain he felt his heart clench.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

***

Hermione couldn't believe it. All this time, he had known. He had known the prophecy was talking about him from the very beginning, and yet he had said nothing to her. Why? Why would he do that? Even as she asked him that very question, she feared the answer. Looking back, she realised that Severus hadn't shown any romantic interest in her until well after the prophecy was made. Dear gods – what if she had unknowingly walked into the very situation she had been trying to avoid? What if he was only with her because he believed it to be inevitable? What if he truly did not want her all? Too horrified to look at him any longer, Hermione jumped out of the chair, knocking it over in her haste, and ran from the room.

She heard Severus calling her name as she raced up the stairs, his heavy footfalls echoing as he chased after her, but she paid him no heed. Her eyes stung with the effort to hold back her tears as she ducked into the library, slamming the door behind her and waving her wand to ward it against intrusion.

Collapsing onto the sofa, she heaved a sob and then began to weep in earnest. Suddenly, she felt a tingle of magic as Severus took down her wards. Waving her wand, she put them back up, only for them to be instantly removed again. Scowling through her tears, Hermione waved her wand again, placing the strongest wards she knew upon the door. Now certain that she would not be disturbed, she wept until there were no more tears to shed.

***

Severus kicked at the library door. His darling little witch had placed powerful wards to keep him out but had obviously forgotten to cast a Silencing Charm – he could hear every heart-wrenching sob.

Running his hands through his hair, and kicking the door again for good measure, he leant his forehead against the wood. He had already considered Apparating into the room but then remembered that during the war Potter had warded the entire house against Apparition in case headquarters was ever infiltrated. Damn it! She had to let him in; she had to listen to him. He knew what she was thinking – that he was only with her because of the prophecy – but nothing could be further from the truth. He needed to tell her, to explain ....

"Trouble in paradise?"

Potter. Just my luck. "Come to mock me, Potter? How juvenile," he said, flatly, his head still resting against the door. Hell and damnation – he couldn't even manage a sneer.

Potter did not respond, but did not leave. Curious, Severus turned to face the-man-who-had-once-been-the-bane-of-his-existence. "Just what is it you want?" he asked wearily.

Hands raised in a conciliatory gesture, Potter said, "I've come to help – that's all."

Severus eyed the other man suspiciously. "You've come to help me?"

"Yeah. She has some pretty strong wards up, doesn't she?" Potter asked conversationally, as if he didn't hear the sobbing witch on the other side of the door.

Thinking that perhaps the younger wizard might be of some use after all, Severus nodded. "She does." He paused for a moment before adding, "I am unable to break them."

Apparently not surprised by this revelation, Potter simply shrugged, "Yeah. Those would be Hermione's 'special wards.' She developed them herself when we were out hunting for Horcruxes. They came in handy a time or two."

Severus was surprised at Potter's candour; the saviour of the wizarding world rarely spoke of the war, even to his closest friends. Not knowing how to reply, Severus simply nodded.

"I can take down the wards for you – if you'd like," Potter offered.

Surprised by the unexpected offer, Severus blurted out his question, completely unchecked. "Why would you do that?"

Emerald-green eyes stared at him seriously. "I heard what she said down there. She loves you a great deal. I won't pretend to understand it, but I can see that it's true. And, if you don't mind my saying, I saw your reaction to what she had to say, and I think you love her, too." Potter shuffled his feet uneasily. "She's my best friend – I just want to see her happy."

Severus shifted his gaze to the closed door once more before he nodded at the younger wizard. "Your help would be greatly appreciated, Mr Potter."

***

Hermione sat on the sofa with her legs tucked to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She had cried until she felt she couldn't possibly have any tears left to cry. Sniffing, she rested her forehead on her knees, allowing herself to wallow in self-pity for a while.

Suddenly, the library door flung open with such force it slammed against the wall with a heavy thud. Hermione's head whipped around toward the sound, only to see Severus skidding into the room, his hair sticking out all angles, and his eyes wild.

Seeing him standing there filled her heart with such painful longing that her eyes welled with tears once more, blurring her vision until she could no longer see him.

In an instant, Severus was pulling her into his arms and soothing her with gentle words as she cried. Eventually the tears ceased, and with her breath hitching, Hermione asked, "H-how did you g-get past the wards?"

A hand stroked her hair as he answered, "A certain friend of yours removed them for me."

Surprised, Hermione lifted her head to look at him; there was only one person who could have taken down those wards. "Harry?"

Severus nodded, his hand urging her head to rest upon his chest.

Hermione allowed him to comfort her for a moment before she came to her senses, disentangling herself from his embrace and standing to her feet before walking a short distance away. She wrapped her arms around herself, seeking some measure of self-preservation. "W-why? Why didn't you tell me?"

He did not answer immediately but instead pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and stepped forward to dry her tear-stained cheeks. Hermione felt her breath catch at the intimate gesture. "Refresh my memory. Why was it you chose to ignore the prophecy?"

Hermione was bewildered by the question. She hiccoughed, then asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Humour me, sweet."

With a shrug, she looked away from him. "I didn't want to be with someone who came to me solely out of obligation." She raised her gaze to meet his eyes. "Why would I want someone who was only with me because they felt they had no other choice? I want to be loved for me, not because of some prophecy," she said disdainfully, her tone ripe with accusation.

Completely unfazed, Severus smiled softly – one corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly – and quietly asked, "And why would you think that I would feel any differently?"

Hermione froze, his words echoing in her head. And why would you think that I would feel any differently? What was he saying? That he had wanted her to come to love him of her own volition? Was he saying that he loved her?

Worrying her lower lip, she plucked at a nonexistent string on her robes before tentatively asking, "How do you feel, then?"

Tenderly, he cupped her face in his hand and whispered, "I love you, Hermione." He placed soft kisses on her cheeks – "I love you" – her forehead – "I love you" – her nose – "I love you."

Severus lowered his head, and her lips parted to accept his kiss, when suddenly a collective, "Aww!" came from the doorway.

Startled by the sudden intrusion, they broke apart, turning their heads as one to face the open doorway. Crowded there stood the entire assemblage from the kitchen.

Hermione choked back her laughter as Severus glowered at the group as the phrases, "How sweet!" and, "It's so romantic!" drifted into the room. Her eyes widened as he reached for his wand.

"Severus," she said, placing her hand on his arm. Looking up at him with all the love in her heart shining clearly in her eyes, she felt his body relax, and then he turned his head to face her. He smiled at her, one hand rising to caress her cheek. Blindly, he waved his wand in the direction of the library door, slamming it shut as he smugly called out –

"Sod off!"

A/N: Up next ... the epilogue!

As always, my unending gratitude to my fabulous betas!