Chapter 11

XI.

...

Severus hated stress. Having finally gotten rid of the Dark Lord, had his name cleared, and even made a life for himself...their Snoring Solution was already flying off the shelves at the Weasley twins' shop under the brewing imprint of SH!, short for Severus and Hermione...he had grown used to a life without much stress. In fact, there were only two points of nerve-twanging tension in his life. One, he still hadn't gone all the way with his Hermione, and two...he could hear Ronald Bilgewater Weasley trying to argue with her in the room just down the hall.

In fact, most of the guests could hear them arguing, including the idiot's vociferous, venemous shout of, "...I will not let you marry that greasy git!"

The snap in Hermione's voice as she replied pleased him, even as it creased his brow with worry. Not that she'd cave to his demand, but that she might do something that would land her in Azkaban. His other source of stress would be made a thousandfold worse if their wedding night had to be postponed.

"Well, what do you suggest, Ron? That I never marry anyone? That I live out the rest of my life as a spinster, with just my cats for company?"

"Yes!...I would rather see you marry one of your bloody cats than marry that man!"

"...Fine."

The wedding guests blinked en masse, at that. Severus could see the speculation in their eyes, though none dared say a word just yet, for fear of missing whatever else she might say in that tight, clipped tone. There was a startled exclamation in the hall, and the swift-striding rustle of satin as Hermione Jane Granger stalked into the chapel, marching straight up the aisle. A red-faced Ron and a grim-faced Harry, both in tuxedos trailed after her. Along with them came Ginny in a bridesmaid's dress, two bouquets in her hands. She distinctly looked like she would rather be anywhere else than in the same location as her youngest brother.

The organist, startled by the bride's sudden appearance, tried to play the wedding march, but fumbled only after a few chords, and finally gave up. It allowed the gathered crowd time enough to whisper a few choice comments to each other before falling silent again. No one wanted to miss this confrontation, either.

"I'm terribly sorry, Severus, but the idiot, here," Hermione apologized, poking her thumb over her shoulder at the redhead, "is insisting that I marry one of my cats. As I am tired of arguing with the bonehead, I have agreed to do so..just to get him to shut up. Do you mind?"

Aware of their avid audience, Severus considered her offer. "...Did you have a particular cat in mind?"

"Puss-in-Boots. Crookshanks feels more like a brother to me. And besides, he's been neutered. I do eventually want offspring," his betrothed asserted firmly.

"Duly noted." Clasping her hand in his, Severus smiled at her, then turned to the vicar...and scowled when the man didn't move. "...Well? Get on with it!"

"But...I...you...you can't marry a cat!"

"I can, too!" Hermione protested. Turning, she pushed Ron and Harry back so that they could serve as her bridesmen, next to Ginny. A flick of her hand gestured for Fred and George, Severus' attendants, to take their places, too. "And since Ronald has blow the original ceremony right out of the water, let's get right to the good part, since we've already delayed long enough.

"I, Hermione Granger, take Severus Snape to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold..."

"...Hang on!" Ron protested. "You just said you'd marry your cat, not him!"

"...Excuse us, mate," George interjected politely, touching Severus on the elbow as he passed. "This has gone on long enough."

"Yes, please do pardon us," Fred agreed. Both twins advanced on their brother, catching Ron by the arms and dragging him backwards to the nearest empty pew. There were Muggles in the church, so they were very discreet about using any magic, but whatever they did, it was enough to hold the youngest male Weasley firmly and silently in place. Marching back up the aisle, they took their places next to their best potions supplier, staunch supporters. Harry grimaced but took his place next to Ginny, and the wedding commenced.

...

After it was over, after the receiving line and the guests had scattered to the buffet tables, Severus discreetly followed the Weasley brat into the lavatory, disillusioning himself as soon as he was out of sight of the Muggles. He waited until the prat was finished, then snatched him by the ear in a hard-pinching grip.

"Listen well, boy," Severus hissed as Ron scrabbled to try and release himself. "You were lucky that Crookshanks and I didn't claw off your balls, that night...and if I ever catch you with a Love Philtre in your possession again, I shall inject my strongest, most concentrated Shrinking Solution under your foreskin!" Shoving the boy away, he allowed the concealment charm to fade, revealing his disdain. "You are so stupid, you have utterly failed to realize that there is no force in this world capable of making Hermione Snape do anything she doesn't wish to do.

"If you wish to retain her friendship, it is up to you to apologize for causing a scene, and to make amends to her. Starting with polite, civilized behaviour. If you can."

Making a show of stepping up to one of the bathroom sinks, Severus scrubbed his hands, glancing over at the young man.

"...As you can see, I literally wash my hands of you. If you ever choose to visit, do try to be polite and civilized."

"Or what?" Ron challenged him.

"Or I shan't stop my wife from casting whatever spells she wants on you. Do try to enjoy the party in a civilized manner."

Wiping his hands on a towelette...rather than that freckled face on the floor...Severus returned to his bride in the church's reception hall. Hermione clasped his hand, leaning close to whisper a query in his ear.

"What happened?"

"I gave him a warning. Either he acts politely from now on, or I'll refuse to stop you from hexing him six ways from St. Mungo's."

"You say the sweetest things." Kissing him on the cheek, Hermione wrapped her arm around his ribs, snuggling close. "My pretty Puss-in-Boots."

"Hermione, I am not 'pretty'," he complained, wincing at the appelation.

"You haven't looked in the mirror since you put on your tuxedo, have you?" she retorted lightly. "Trust me, you are the most drop-dead gorgeous man in the room."

"How apropos, considering some of these guests do want me to 'drop dead'. A pity, as I shall not be able to oblige them," he murmured with a smirk.

"Let them suffer. As for myself...I'm too busy thinking about tonight."

"Hm. Yes." Now that they were safely and legally married, that was his other source of stress. Their wedding night. "Do you think Nymphadora and Kingsley could Obliviate all the guests quickly enough, if I were to just throw you over my shoulder and Apparate out of here with you?"

She paused, visibly giving it careful, serious thought. Hermione's grandmother approached before she could reply, though.

"What a beautiful wedding, dearie. My goodness, he cleans up handsomely! Christmas wasn't bad, but this is much better! Mind you put him in some colours, of course" Gran Granger ordered her descendant. "Black makes him look a little sallow. And you, my dear child, look like the perfect bride...except for your hair, which you get from your grandfather's side..."

Hermione met his gaze over her grandmother's shoulder as they embraced, giving him a silent plea to be patient, and sympathy for having to be patient. Severus sighed and rubbed at the crease in his brow to try and prevent another scowl. Just a few more hours, and they could finally be alone as husband and wife.

...

"Finally."

Severus wanted to echo the sentiment, but he was too exhausted. After having had their Portkey to the Romanian village of Bruga-Azuga...a newly established wizarding ski-resort...rerouted three times to avoid a huge snowstorm covering half of Eastern Europe, their plans for their honeymoon had almost fallen through. But they were here at last, with the door to their suite safely locked behind him.

They definitely weren't here for the skiing, though Severus did have vague ideas of coming up for air long enough to go hunting for rare snowblood flowers...an ideal additive for most potions and unguents that had to be kept chilled at all times, since it physically chilled its surroundings even when dried and ground into a fine powder, but didn't actually interact with most other ingredients. No, they were here to spend as much time alone together as possible, without having to bother with mundanities, such as cooking their own food. This suite was ideal for that, since it came with a fully stocked snack-bar, a jacuzzi, and a big, bouncy bed. Severus knew it was bouncy, because Hermione bounced when she dropped onto it, then bounced again when she flopped onto her back with a sigh.

And promptly fell asleep.

Stifling a yawn, Severus flicked his wand at his newly married bride. Hermione had changed out of her wedding gown into jeans and a brown jumper, practical, comfortable garments meant for traveling. Practical was the word for it, since she had worn a pair of white trainers under the long hem of her gown, to give her feet something comfortable to wear all throughout the ceremony and reception. But when he magically stripped off her outer layers, he found her still clad in white satin lingerie, replete with a ribbon-trimmed suspender-belt holding up a pair of silk hosiery. It provided a frame for the scrap of fabric shielding her mound, and matched the ribbon-trimmed scraps cupping her breasts.

Part of his body stirred at the sight, but only because it was such a lovely sight. The rest of him yawned again. Two more flicks of his wand divested his own outer layer of clothes...a dark blue jumper and dark grey wool slacks...and a third removed his boots and undergarments. A swirl of his wand, a wordless command, and her body lifted from the edge of the bed. Pulling back the thick feather duvet, Severus settled Hermione on the soft white sheets.

She shivered a little and rolled onto her side, giving him a lovely view of her delightfully rounded, satin-clad buttocks. Some of his interest rose further...but he could barely keep his eyes open. Climbing into bed behind her, he scooted up against her back, spooning as close as he could. A tug of the sheet and duvet covered both of them, and the warmth of their cuddled bodies overcame the chill in the air.

The last thing Severus did was to worm his left arm under the pillow beneath her head, and delve the fingers of his right hand down under the waistband of her bikini-cut knickers. Neither of them had spent an entire night with the other while both were in human form; it hadn't been deemed safe by either of them. As much as he really wanted to deflower his wife and bind himself to her in that last and most physical of ways, he knew his performance would suffer if he didn't get at least some sleep. With the scent of her hair tickling his nostrils, and his erection nestled between the satin-covered cheeks of her bum, Severus closed his eyes and gave in to his exhaustion.

...An unknown time later, the most heavenly feeling roused him from the depths of slumber. Wet, sliding heat enveloped his prick, while gently scraping nails teased at his scrotum. Soft hair tickled at his thighs, while the crackle and hiss of a fire in the bedroom hearth mingled with the suckling noises his bride made as she savoured him from glans to root and back.

This wasn't the first time she had awakened him this way. The first time, he had bedded down with Hermione curled up in a fuzzy bundle just under his chin, carefully shaped as a cat while he remained shaped like a man. Back then, he had gone to sleep with her juices smeared happily over his face, content that he had pleased her thoroughly.

Waking up to her mouth combined with her scent had been indescribable. Bliss on earth. Since then, sometimes she would wake him, and sometimes he would wake her, and often they would finish waking each other together. But not this morning.

He missed that scent. He missed her, though she was only half a body-length away. Unfortunately, months of practice had made his beautiful bride quite proficient at pleasing him. Slipping one saliva-lubricated finger into his rectum, she twisted her hand just enough to curl her finger upward in a come-here motion, sliding the pad of her finger gently, repeatedly over his prostate. At the same time, her thumb...also dampened by occasional passes of her tongue whenever she worked her way down to his sac...rubbed his perineum in a gentle, circular caress.

And then, the coup de grace. The far-too-smart and way-too-observant woman breathed on his nether-hairs. Severus' eyes snapped open, then rolled back in his head. His abdomen clenched against the lightning that prickled across his nerves. It was followed by a choked sound as she lunged up and swallowed him down, lodging the head of his erection against the back of her mouth.

Severus didn't know if he was into her throat or not. All he knew was that the pressure was mind-blowing. Loin-blowing, too. Clutching her head, trying not to pull on her hair, he groaned with the shuddering force of his release. She coughed a little, backed up an inch, and sucked on him, at first strongly, then more gently, with little pauses in between to silently, discreetly Banish his seed directly from her tastebuds.

When the streaks faded from his vision, when his eyes could relax enough to focus upon the ceiling of their ski-lodge suite, Severus managed to release her head. Hands flopping onto the bed, he breathed and blinked, and felt her crawling up the length of his torso. Squirming to brace herself on one elbow, Hermione dropped her other arm around his ribs, giving him a squeeze and a pleased grin.

"Good morning, husband!

A very good...yes... Managing a nod, he licked his lips and asked the question uppermost in his racing mind. "Have you visited the loo, yet?"

She quirked her brows at him, chuckling at the off-beat question. Months of enjoying each other's company as human-and-lapcat had rendered a few biological boundaries obsolete, but even he had to admit it was an odd thing to ask on one's honeymoon. "Yes, of course. I woke up a little cold, so I built up the fire, then had a pee. I even brushed my teeth!"

"Good." That fit in with his plans quite nicely. Now if only I can get some energy back into my legs...

"Shall I order breakfast? Or shall we just snuggle under the covers and sleep in some more?"

That wasn't in his morning plans, though he supposed breakfast wouldn't be amiss at some point. "I'd rather visit whatever passes for a litterbox, then come back to you."

"Snuggling it is!" Twisting onto her back, Hermione grinned and stretched her arms over her head. She angled an amused look his way. "...You know, you don't have to be a cat to be naked in a bed with me, anymore."

"I know. I'll be back shortly." Aware of the potential for morning-breath, Severus merely caught her hand and kissed the back of it with dry lips, then hauled himself out of their bed before he could be tempted into doing more, just yet. Taking his wand, he retired to the bathroom.

The sight of both of their toothbrushes laid out on the lavatory counter touched him. Hermione hadn't just unpacked her own toiletries, she had unpacked his as well. Resolving to show his appreciation, he attended to his various morning needs, then quietly placed an order via Patronus for a suitable breakfast to be readied and brought to their door in roughly two hours.

By the time he re-entered the bedroom, most of his energy had come back from its bliss-filled vacation. Seeing his bride sprawled across the covers revived his erection. The sun had risen a while ago, and now peeked in through a gap in the velvet curtains sheltering the bedroom window. It poured golden-white light across a strip of her abdomen and defined the shadow of the arm she had angled across her belly, giving her fingers access to her groin.

The sight of Hermione pleasuring herself almost made him miss the spoon she was licking. A glance at the bedside table showed an opened vial of neatly labelled Nihou Dze, replete with the SH! logo on its label. Relieved, Severus crossed to the bed, set down his wand, gently plucked the spoon from her fingertips, and poured himself a dose of the contraceptive draught. Once it was drunk, Severus found himself pulled into bed before he could set the spoon down. Smirking, he tossed the spoon onto the floor, delved his fingers through his bride's mussed curls, and claimed her mouth.

The seaweedy taste of the Nihou mixed awkwardly with the mint of his toothpaste, but Hermione didn't care. Finally...finally...they were going to go all the way. Frankly, the only reason why she had slept at all was due to sheer, waylaid-traveller's exhaustion. And since it was her fault that she had fallen asleep first, well, she had done her best to make it up to her man.

My man. It was hard to kiss him when she wanted to grin at that thought. He wasn't the first stray she had picked up and adopted...Harry, Ron, and Crookshanks had come along well before Severus...but he was definitely the best. Nuzzling her way to the soft spot below his ear, she licked the side of his throat while he nipped at her collarbone. My kitty-cat, too...my grumpy, snarky, utterly cuddle-worthy pussy-cat...

A few minutes later, as he nipped his way past the curls below her belly, swirling the tip of his nose in counterpoint to the flicking of his tongue, she silently added, Though he's the one about to lick my pussy... The naughty thought combined with the tickling from his shoulder-length hair, making her laugh. Curling her stomach-muscles, she reached down and cupped his head, guiding him into place.

Ignoring her silent suggestion, Severus pushed her knees up and out, laving the soft skin of her inner thigh. He mock-bit her muscles, growling and scraping his teeth lightly, then darted in for a lightning-fast lap of her moistened flesh. But that was all he did with the seam of her femininity for several minutes more, choosing instead to torment with ticklish licks of the seams between her hips and thighs.

"Please...please, Severus!" Hermione finally begged.

Stopping for a moment...deliberately, so that each word would breathe itself on her nether-curls...he dared to say, "That is precisely what I am trying to do. Please you."

"Lick me!" she demanded. Then bit her lower lip, whimpering while he complied.

He, too, licked his fingers and tucked them inside her body, though not into her rectum. And he slid two inside, not just one, before fluttering them in an upward, beckoning motion. Hermione felt her toes curling as that unbearable, urgent sensation built up within her again.

"Come for me," Severus urged her, speaking in that same, quiet, ear-straining tone he had used back in his classroom days. "Come for me...come, my pretty puss...let me pet you until you come..."

Sparks streaked behind her fluttering eyelids as Hermione came. They mixed madly with images of her and him in a classroom setting, yet also of her being graded on her performance in bed...and she nearly laughed as she orgasmed, thinking, Double-O score, for Outstanding Orgasm...ah, Severus! His name emerged as a choked, broken cry, for he had shifted his hand so that his long first and middle fingers rubbed against her inner wall, while his thumb circled and stimulated her clit. The rest of him was busy suckling up the juices she spilled over his palm.

Gentling his touch, he soothed her through her sensitive stage, then began all over again, though he didn't remove his fingers from her flesh. First he tickled her inner thighs with his hair and his breath, then he licked and nipped with his tongue and his teeth. After a few more minutes, the pressure in her blood built up again, making her undulate into his gentle, pumping strokes. She winced a little when he slipped three fingers inside, relaxed as he lapped again for moisture...then whimpered when he withdrew his fingers after only a few minutes.

"Severus! ...Why did you stop?" Hermione whinged, hating that she was whinging, unhappy that he had stopped and thus frustrated her, yet perversely loving how he had frustrated her.

Licking the last of her dew from his fingers, Severus crawled up over her. Dipping his head, he nipped at her mouth with his own, then growled in her ear. "Because I want you on all fours when I mate with you."

The suggestion went straight to her hindbrain. Moaning, Hermione writhed and twisted onto her belly, then pushed up onto her palms and knees. Back swaying, thighs shifting, she purred and kneaded her fingers into the bedding. Rising over her, curling over her back, Severus covered her with his body. With his body cradling hers, thigh to thigh, belly to back, he nuzzled aside her curls with nose and chin and kissed the muscles of her shoulders. At the other end of her torso, his revived erection bumped and rubbed between her thighs, nudging her slick center.

They stayed like that for a few moments, nuzzling and rubbing, until Hermione bowed her back. Needy, she reached between her legs, and tilted her hips, trying to grab his tip to get it in the right spot. She wanted actual penetration, not just unclothed frottage.

Her frustrated growl was incredibly sexy. Sliding back, Severus levered himself upright. She growled again, the hand between her thighs straining to reach his shaft. Grasping the problem...literally, with one hand on her hip and the other on his erection...he aligned their bodies just so, prodding the desire-swollen folds of her loins.

The one thing he didn't have to worry about was lubrication; plenty of it had rubbed off onto his shaft, and enough still coated the back of his hand to rub against himself. But it didn't matter; once he had her positioned, she pushed herself back onto him, more than eager to see the deed done. Shifting both hands to her hips, he guided her into a gentle, increasingly penetrative rhythm. She actually provided most of the effort; all he had to do was bite his lower lip in the struggle to keep from losing control as his woman, his bride, his wife sheathed him inch by delicious, warm, wet, tight inch.

Hermione moaned, thrusting back more and more. This was better than his fingers, a little larger, smoother, firmer... It stung a little, but the rest of felt so good, so needy, so primal, she had to have more. Panting, rocking, she impaled herself deeper, until that thickest spot on his shaft, about a third of the way from the base, lodged against the ring of skin forming her hymen. Bracing her arms, she rested for a moment, then gritted her teeth and pushed her hips backward with a grunt. Severus caught on within a moment, pulling her against him as he thrust his own hips forward, and a glance down that had him biting his lip even harder.

This image...I must get my hands on a Pensieve, and preserve this image for posterity...and future perving... Nothing could have been more perfect than the sight of his shaft glistening with essence of Hermione as it delved deeper and deeper into his wife's body. Nothing...not even Voldemort's death, which he would only ever be able to see via a Pensieve, should someone who had been there be so kind as to share that moment with him. And now...his black hairs brushed up against her brown, she had buried him that deeply within her body. Must bottle this...momentous moment...for our wedding anniversary... God, yes!

Hermione was glad he had had gone slow. It didn't really hurt, but it was tight. There had been a brief, private wizarding ceremony during the signing of the marriage contract, involving the pricking of thumbs and the mingling of blood, which took care of silly, archaic things like one's maidenhead...provided one's deflowerer was one's husband...and was even supposed to ease some of the pains of labour, though hopefully it would be several years before they'd find out about that. Right now...Hermione was just happy to rest and enjoy the strange yet delicious sensation of being filled. Of being connected to her mate.

Severus had to swallow carefully, swirling his saliva in his mouth to make sure it didn't contain any blood. The worry came from the stinging pain of his lower lip, which was keeping him just on the near side of an orgasm. When he was sure he hadn't pierced his skin, when he was reasonably sure he could move without climaxing, he rocked gently within her tight embrace, lubricating their connection.

One of his gentle thrusts was a little more forceful than the others, mainly because Hermione added to its impetus with a shift of her weight. That rubbed the head of his shaft against that spot inside her depths, and that rolled her eyes back in her head. A strangled grunt escaped her...and the considerate bastard stopped.

"Are you all right?" Severus enquired quickly.

Hermione managed another strangled sound, and strained to rock against him. He held her still, frustrating her, until she gave up and grunted, "Fuck me!'

One of his brows rose. He was so non-plussed at her bluntness, Severus wasn't even sure if he was aroused or shocked by it. Or both. He could do both. Rocking gently once more, he was met with a growl and a shove of her arms, forcing herself backward onto him. Buttocks met groin, and though she grunted, she pulled herself forward and thrust back again.

It felt so good, his eyes rolled back behind his lids. Grabbing her hips, Severus thrust back, yanking her into a hard rhythm. The first shriek from his mate unnerved him, but he wasn't imprisoning her, wasn't forcing himself on her; she thrust back even harder, and growled his nickname...Puss!...and clawed at the bedding, going wild. It took Severus a few more thrusts to realize why, as his body sorted out the sensations of his prick thrusting deep inside her slick flesh. He was rubbing against her magic-spot with each firm stroke.

Safe behind her back, Severus grinned ferally and bucked into her all the harder. Hermione shouted, then grabbed the nearest pillow and hauled it under her chest, growling and biting the corner. All he could think when he saw that was, My mate! Mine! Giving reign to his instincts, he folded himself down over her back, shifted his palms from her hips to her breasts for a quick caress, then curled them up over her shoulders from beneath.

Letting her take some of his weight, Severus hauled hard on her torso, slamming her onto him as he jerked his hips. A growl of his own escaped his throat...the friction was unbelievable, the position and its pressure blissful beyond words. Their flesh slapped together, but within moments it was lost under his growls and her shrieks. Within moments, she howled and writhed wildly beneath him, making it all he could do to hold onto her body, to hold onto their rhythm. Warm wetness showered his loins as she shrieked again in her climax.

The release of his own pleasure heated and flooded her depths, soothing and smoothing out an act that had threatened to chafe from friction. His own shuddering thrusts, breaking and losing their rhythm only briefly, made her tremble with a second, smaller orgasm, and a third... Gulping down heaving lungfuls of air, Hermione clutched at the mangled hotel pillow that was holding her up just enough to keep her face from suffocating in the bedding beneath their combined, slumped weight.

And then he pulled out of her, eliciting a faint whimper of disappointment and loss. At least her very thoughtful husband had the presence of mind to shift his hands from clutching to caressing, soothing her down from her shuddering plateau. He also pressed his lips to her shoulder blades, then her ribs, saluting either side of her spine until he reached her buttocks...where he gently bit each one, scraping his teeth lightly over her flesh.

And then the brilliant bastard licked her center, lapping up their combined moisture and circling the orgasm-swollen peak between her nether-lips. Hermione moaned clutched tightly at her pillow, binding herself in place, a willing victim to such sensitive, sweet torture. Adding in his nose, lips, and fingertips prolonged and re-aroused her pleasure.

Only when she had shuddered through two more medium-sized orgasms did his bride finally shift away from his mouth, twisting so that her crossed legs protected herself from any further exploration and manipulation. Crawling up over her body, Severus dipped his head, pressing soft kisses to her chin and cheek. The sound of her sigh, deeply sated and very contented, accompanied another twist of her body, until she was lying mostly on her back. Easing down beside her, Severus half-covered her, hauling her close with an arm around her ribs.

Severus kissed her, gentle salutations of his mouth meeting hers. A gentle dessert, the kind meant to accompany a robust meal. He wasn't normally a man for sweets, but this was the perfect time for sweetness.

Hermione kissed him back, wrapping her upper arm around his waist. Her lower one was getting squished between them, while his was providing her head a sort of pillow...with the real one shoved out of the way, now that it was no longer needed...but such discomforts weren't overly important. Particularly when he eased onto his back, urging her to shift and plaster herself against his side. Once settled, Hermione couldn't reach his lips anymore, but she could press kisses to his chest. A final, contented sigh, and she snuggled her head against his sweat-clammy skin.

"I ordered breakfast from the lavatory," Severus confessed. That shifted her head enough to glance up at him. "It won't be here for another hour or so."

"Mm, good. I feel like sleeping in again."

He smirked. "Poor puss. Did I wear you out?"

"Mm. Prrawrrrrrrrr," she mock-growled, and nipped at his chest before resettling her cheek against his muscles. "Mine."

"Hm."

"Mm?"

"Great minds think alike."

"...You know what I'd like?" Hermione asked after another moment.

"Name it."

"What?"

"Name it, and you'll have it," Severus elaborated.

Hermione grinned and squeezed his ribs with the arm still wrapped around his body. "That herbology book I packed in my bag, the one that has the description and uses of snowblood? Could we...you know..."

"...Fetch it and read it?" Severus enquired, finishing her request. Stretching out his arm, he managed to snag his wand, and flicked it. "Accio."

Then quickly snapped his wand through the air, stopping the sudden lurching of her entire suitcase from its spot on the low bureau-dresser over by the bathroom door. The snickering of his wife didn't help, though he did do a neat job of unzipping the case, extracting the book, and levitating the two in opposite directions, the suitcase back to the dresser-top and the book into his wife's outstretched hand. Tucking his wand onto the dresser, he plucked the book from her hand, nudged her arm back into place around his chest, and thumbed open the tome, searching for the right spot.

"I love you." The almost shy way she said it made him smile. Hermione elaborated, snuggling closer. "I mean, this isn't a sofa, and it isn't five years in the future...but what other man would be willing to read a book with his bride on their honeymoon? And do it right after the best smashing sex of her life?"

That made him scowl briefly, looking down his nose at her. "Hermione we did not 'have sex'. We made love. Rabid, sheet-clawing, pleasure-howling love-making. Do get it straight."

"Or what?" she asked, smirking. "You'll demonstrate the difference."

Wincing, he gave her an irritated look. "I have just orgasmed twice in a row, Puss. Give me at least six hours to recover, or you'll break me before you've had me out of the box for a single day!"

Hermione thought about that for a few moments, before offering, "...How about eight hours?"

"Eight?" he asked, curious. "Why eight?"

"That gives us an hour to read, an hour for breakfast and a shower, four hours for hunting down snowbloods, another hour to warm up in that scrumptious bathtub-built-for-two I saw in the loo, roughly an hour for dinner, and then we can get back to the rabid, howling, toe-curling, wild-beast-style love-making we were doing earlier. Though I did rather like those tender kisses at the end, there. Do you think we could try tender, next time?"

"Provided you don't attack me like a puss-in-heat next time, I suppose we could try," he teased, and cleared his throat as she opened her mouth to object. "'Dicentra frigidopida, commonly known as winterhearts in the Americas and snowbloods in Europe, are a rare variant of dicentra wizardosa, or wizard's bleeding heart,'" Severus recited. "'Transplanted to Europe in the late nineteenth century by wizarding explorers of the Pacific Northwest, the snowblood is of particular use in the Arts of Alchemy and Artificing for their unusual thermal properties...'"

Feeling so happy, she could have purred even as a human female, Hermione rested her cheek on his chest, feeling his voice as much as hearing it. And to think, it all started because Ron wanted to marry me, and I had to escape him after I said no...and found a poor, starving, stray cat in that alley behind St. Mungo's...

Thinking about that moment made her think of poor Viktor Krum. He liked me. He wanted to date me, and I tried for a little while...but though he was as handsome in the same way I find Severus handsome...dark and in need of a good cuddle...he was rather like Ron. More into physical pursuits than cerebral. We'd never have made it.

Still, I think I owe him a thank-you. Maybe I can convince Severus to name one of our children Viktor, if we ever get around to having any? Not that I want any for several years, and maybe only one or two, if that... Yes, Viktor is a good name for a boy. Or Viktoria for a girl...

"Hermione, are you even paying attention?"

Honesty was the best policy. "Nope. I'm in love with the sound of your voice, and am happy to just hear you speak."

Non-plussed, Severus blinked, cleared his throat, and found his place again. "Well...I'll just have to assign you a twelve-inch parchment on the identification features of the plant."

Hermione laughed at that. Shifting her arm from his ribs to his abdomen, she cupped his relaxed loins. "How about a nice six-inch scroll, instead?"

"You don't get to go out and buy a replacement, so kindly do not break me, Madam Snape."

That made her shiver. "Ooh! Say it again."

"What, do not break me?"

"No, my name," Hermione ordered, giving him a quick, gentle squeeze.

"Madam Snape...Madam Snape!" he repeated firmly, scowling at her...though she could see the gleam of love lurking in his dark eyes. "Unhand me at once, and open this book to page 279, or I'll give you a tongue-lashing!"

"How about, and you'll give me a tongue lashing?" she asked, feeling her desire returning, now that it had enjoyed sufficient time to rest.

Considering her words, Severus arched a brow and shifted the tome out of her reach. "I've changed my mind. You will give me an oral presentation...consisting of repeated laps whilst I start again from the beginning. At the end of it, if you can recite the ten salient features and properties of the snowblood..."

This was a much better idea. Intrigued, Hermione levered herself up on one elbow. "Yes?"

"...You may attempt to break me. After we have broken our fast."

Squirming down the bed, she crawled between his legs, settled herself on her belly, elbows propping her up and ankles crossed over her buttocks, since otherwise her legs would have hung off the end of the bed. A smile, and she positioned herself just so. "Ready when you are!"

"Ahem. 'Dicentra frigidopida, commonly known as winterhearts in the Americas and snowbloods in Europe....'"

Grinning, Hermione enthusiastically began her 'assigned' task.

God bless poor Viktor Krum...and God bless my very own, book-loving Puss-in-Boots. Mmm, yesss... Thank you, God, for giving me my Severus Snape!

THE END