Chapter Four

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

Chapter Four

June 5, 1998

Mousehole, Cornwall

"You're sure this is the right place?" Harry asked for the third time in as many minutes.

Hermione gritted her teeth in frustration. "Yes, I'm sure."

Even as she assured Harry, Hermione examined the small, lichen-covered fisherman's cottage with wary eyes. She did not know exactly what sort of house she had expected Severus to be living in, but this was definitely not it. No, she certainly had not imagined that she would find him in a lovely little village, in a most charming little house.

Even in the darkness of night, the small, granite cottage was warm and inviting, with pots of vibrantly-coloured flowers lovingly lined along the front patio and next to the bright blue door. Hermione could hear the sounds of the harbour and smell the salty sea air, and she realised they must be near the bay. The quiet, narrow street was not open to traffic, allowing for a very private, secluded feeling.

Perhaps it was the sort of place he would come to, after all.

She touched her fingers to the binding mark on the back of her neck. Yes, she could feel his magic inside the cottage. Severus was here. Hermione swayed...he really was alive. She had known it intellectually, but to actually feel his magic ....

"All right there, Hermione?" Harry asked as he reached out for her arm to steady her.

She nodded, her mouth so dry she could not speak. She stared at the blue door, working up the courage to knock. It had taken three days of poring over the ancient texts and tomes that Bill had found on magical bindings before they had been able to find detailed information on the Ingravesco Iugo. The most exhaustive text had been a basic book of spells from the Middle Ages that Bill had discovered in Fleur's family library. Livre de formules magiques et potions by Philippe Durand had been quite helpful; it was there that they had learned how to find Severus.

It was simple, really. Hermione merely had to touch the mark with her fingers and allow her magic to seek his. The book had indicated that if she concentrated, she could reach out for his magical signature and Apparate directly to wherever Severus was located.

It appeared to have worked, although Hermione had been concerned when they had arrived outside of a house with no Severus in sight. Perhaps there were wards on the cottage? Or maybe it only brought her within a certain distance. She would have to research that later ....

"Hermione?" Harry asked. "Are we going to knock or just stand out here all night?"

Hermione started and then blushed at having been caught woolgathering. As she stared at the blue door, she began to have second thoughts. "You know," she said as she backed away from the house, "maybe we should come back tomorrow. It's terribly late for visiting. I don't know what I was thinking. Let's just go."

"Hermione," Harry interrupted gently. "Stop stalling and knock on the door."

She looked at him, and he smiled, jerking his head toward the door. "Go on."

With a deep breath, she attempted to calm her tumultuous emotions and raging hormones. She wanted to see him, but what if he didn't want to see her?

Then she remembered...this was Severus, her friend. Of course he would want to see her. Wouldn't he?

"I suppose I should just ... knock." Hermione marched up to the door, with Harry in tow, and gave it three sharp raps.

She thought she might faint.

Harry, thankfully, kept a steadying hand on her arm as they waited. After what seemed like hours, but was in reality only a few moments, they heard footsteps as someone approached the door. Hermione's fingers gripped her beaded bag more tightly.

She was definitely going to faint.

The door opened, revealing a tall, dark-haired woman who, judging by her flour-covered apron and hands, had recently been baking. Hermione felt a flicker of recognition but could not recall having ever met the person standing at the door.

"May I help you?" the woman asked coolly as she raised an inquisitive brow.

A very familiar inquisitive brow.

Hermione gasped. "You're Eileen Prince!"

The brow lowered, and the woman's sharp gaze flitted between Harry and Hermione. "Who are you?"

Hermione rapidly pulled herself together. "I'm sorry. I'm Hermione Granger, and this is my friend, Harry Potter."

The dark eyes snapped to Hermione. "Hermione?"

And then her whole demeanour changed, her eyes lit from within, and her mouth curved into a wide smile.

"As I live and breathe. Hermione Granger! Oh, where are my manners? Do come in. I'm so delighted to meet you," she said as she ushered them into the small lounge.

Hermione stood in the middle of the room, shifting nervously from foot to foot. It was a lovely room, with a beamed ceiling and cream walls that were lined with several bookshelves, all holding what appeared to be both Muggle and wizarding cookbooks. As she looked about, her eyes were instantly drawn to a large window seat, which was lined with plush pillows, a few books scattered upon the cushion. It was cosy and comfortable, and Hermione instantly felt at home.

"I do apologise. It isn't often that I have visitors. Would either of you care for tea?" Eileen asked.

Hermione turned to face the older woman. "Erm ... no, thank you, Mrs Snape."

"Please, call me Eileen. And it's Prince, not Snape...not for a very long time. I assume you're here to see Severus?"

"He's here?" Harry asked, as though he was finally beginning to realise that it might actually be true that Snape was alive.

Eileen smiled indulgently. "Yes, he's upstairs, probably whinging about my lack of proper reading materials. He's had a bit of trouble with his legs, you see. He mostly stays to his room, but he's improving all the time. I'm sure a Healer could work wonders. Are you all right, my dear?" she asked a suddenly pale Hermione.

Nerves, morning sickness, and Apparition had already taxed her system, but at Eileen's confirmation of Severus' presence in the house, Hermione felt her stomach lurch.

"I...I'm not feeling very well ...."

And then she promptly vomited on Eileen Prince's antique Persian rug.

*******

A quarter of an hour later, a mortified but clean Hermione stood outside Severus' bedroom door. Eileen had given her a piece of bread to settle her stomach and then shown her to the room before returning downstairs to sit with Harry.

Hermione raised her hand to the door, her fingers lingering on the white-washed wood. The last month had been the worst and best days she had ever known. So many had died, and yet so many had lived. Her parents had returned to England, their memories restored, but they now looked at her with trepidation and a wariness that made Hermione's heart ache. Funerals and weddings and been sprinkled throughout the month of May like pixie dust, one after the other. Hermione had sworn that after the memorial service for Severus, she would take some time to rest; but then had come the shocking revelation of her "marriage" and that Severus was alive ....

And she was stalling, again.

Before she could change her mind, she lifted her hand and knocked.

"Come in."

Her eyes closed and her breathing quickened as she heard his voice for the first time since that horrible night in the Shrieking Shack. Tears pricked her eyelids. He was here, he was alive. Thanking every deity she could think of, she slowly opened the door, her eyes falling upon his reclining form. She held on tightly to the door knob for support.

"Hello, Severus."

His eyes widened in recognition. "Hermione?"

She entered on shaking legs and stopped in the centre of the room. They stared at each other, the air all but crackling around them as their magic leapt in anticipation of their reunion.

"Hermione," he breathed, his expression one of stunned amazement.

All thoughts of nervousness fled, and her face lit up in a bright smile. First and foremost, Severus was her friend, and seeing him alive and well after believing him dead was nothing short of a miracle. Unable to stop herself, she rushed to the bed and flung herself at him, her hands clutching him to her as she inhaled his familiar scent. She had obviously caught him off-guard, but he chuckled in her ear and returned her tight embrace. For several long moments, they simply held each other, and Hermione felt at peace for the first time in a very long while.

Finally, Severus leant back ever so slightly. "Let me look at you," he said.

She reluctantly released him and perched on the edge of the bed as she reached for his hand. Tears filled her eyes as his long fingers entwined with hers.

"Don't you ever...ever...scare me like that again, Severus Snape," she scolded, her eyes hungrily taking in his features. He looked better than he had in years...his face had filled out, probably due to regular meals and a lack of stress. The dark circles under his eyes had all but disappeared, and he just seemed ... lighter somehow.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Unless you know of another megalomaniac whose familiar is an oversized, venom-enhanced snake, I believe I can safely assure you that this will never happen again."

"Ha ha," Hermione replied with a light squeeze of his fingers. "You have no idea what it's been like this past month, thinking you were dead," she said, wiping away a stray tear.

He looked at her with serious eyes and murmured, "I have a better idea than one might think."

She gave him a watery grin. "I've missed you."

"And I you, Hermione," he said, the corner of his own mouth twitching into a small, wry smile. His eyes flittered to her midsection. "How is ...?"

"He's fine," Hermione assured him. "I saw the Healer just last week, and everything is going perfectly."

Severus nodded and looked away. "Good."

Hermione grasped his chin in the fingers of her free hand and turned his face to hers. "Listen to me very carefully, Severus. I wanted to do this. Remember? It was all my idea."

"Yes, I remember. But I hadn't planned on surviving," he replied bitterly, jerking his chin from her hand.

"Don't say such things!"

"Hermione..."

"No!" she exclaimed. She was quite familiar with survivor's guilt, but she'd be damned if she would allow him to use that as an excuse to distance himself from her and their son. "If you think for one single, solitary moment that I regret my decision, then let me assure you...I do not. That you survived changes nothing ... except that you will be able to be the father that you so wanted to be. I would change nothing, Severus...nothing at all."

Suddenly she was looking at the shy, awkward teenager that Harry had described from the memories Severus had released as he lay dying.

"You would be ... open to me playing a part in the child's life?" Severus asked, his tone casual as he plucked at a loose string on the quilt draped across his legs.

Hermione stared at him in exasperated confusion. "How can you ask me that? He is as much your son as he is mine. Of course I want you in his life. You're his father."

Outwardly, his expression did not change, but Hermione could see his relief as his body visibly relaxed. He suddenly gave a bone-cracking yawn, and she remembered just how late in the evening it was.

"Oh, you must be tired. I'm sorry for coming so late, but once we found you, I just couldn't wait, and..."

"Shh. It's fine," Severus interrupted before yet another yawn. "I'm sure you have a plethora of questions for me, as I do for you, but I'm afraid they will have to wait until morning."

Hermione's shoulders slumped. "But I want to know how..."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. You want to know how I survived, and I would like to know what happened after my supposed death, as well as how you found me." He yawned again. "But I'm much too tired for such lengthy explanations."

For a moment, Hermione considered protesting. She needed to discuss their inadvertent marriage with him, but that conversation would take some time, and he did look tired. She sighed. She supposed it could wait another day.

"All right," Hermione muttered. "But you're insane if you think I'm letting you out of my sight for even a moment," she said, standing from her perch on the edge of the mattress and then sliding the overstuffed chair next to the bed just a tad closer. She sat down and tucked her legs underneath her, squirming to find just the right position. When she was comfortable, she smiled and grasped his hand once more.

"I will be right here when you wake up. And don't even think of trying to talk me out of it. I'm not budging, Severus," she said as he opened his mouth to protest.

He must have been too tired to argue with her...which really said something about his exhausted state, as he always wanted to argue with her...because he simply nodded and then shifted until he was lying flat against the mattress.

"Good night, Hermione," he said as his thumb stroked the top of her hand.

"Good night, Severus."

She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest long into the night.

June 6, 1998

Early the next morning, Hermione woke with a start, a loud snort having disturbed her peaceful slumber. She muffled a yelp of pain at the crick in her neck from sleeping in such an awkward position. Looking down, she saw their hands still clasped together, and she marvelled at the contorted positions they both had managed to sleep in so that their link would not be broken.

She smiled and gripped his hand tighter. Being with him again was heavenly, her beleaguered heart finding solace in his presence. The last few days had seemed to last an eternity as they searched for a way to discover Severus' location. Hermione sighed as she realised that she had not truly believed that Severus was alive until she had seen and touched him for herself. Now that she had, she never wanted to let him out of her sight again. Ever.

Unfortunately, her insistent bladder and queasy stomach had other ideas. She needed the loo ... immediately.

With a regretful sigh, she disentangled her hand from his and left the chair. She quickly piled her hair on top of her head, securing in it place with her wand; it was best to get it out of the way before she was in the middle of what she now called her "morning love affair" with the toilet. Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of leaving Severus for even a few minutes, and she cursed her hormones for making her so emotional. After giving Severus a lingering glance, she rushed from the room to find the bathroom.

In her haste, she did not notice the dark eyes open and then narrow into angry slits as he watched her retreating form.

********

"Surely the magical community should have developed some sort of potion or spell to deal with morning sickness by now," Hermione grumbled, removing her wand and allowing her hair to tumble down her back as she descended the stairs to the ground floor. Spending the first five minutes of every morning clinging to a toilet was not the greatest way to start the day.

She sighed as she reached the lounge; Harry had obviously slept on the sofa judging by the pillow and blankets littered about the floor next to the piece of furniture, but the room itself was empty. She peeked into the dining room but found it vacant, as well.

Returning to the lounge, she quietly called, "Harry?"

"In here," came the muffled reply.

Hermione followed the sound of his voice, turning the corner into the light and airy kitchen.

At the table sat a grinning Harry Potter, his cheeks filled with food. A glass of milk and a plate loaded with cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, and various kinds of Cornish pasties had been set before him, which he had obviously been eating with gusto.

Hermione blinked. She was used to seeing Ron in such a fashion, but not Harry. Her lips twitched with the effort to contain her amusement.

Eileen was standing at the counter, rolling out dough on a marble slab. "Good morning, Hermione," she said. "Why don't you take a seat at the table, and I'll get you some breakfast."

Hermione's stomach protested the thought of food. "Oh, that's all right. I don't want to be any trouble," she said, with an admonishing glance at Harry.

"Nonsense," Eileen said, her hand waving away Hermione's protestation. "It's no trouble at all. Harry here is having pasties, but I can make something else if you'd like."

"Um ... do you happen to have any dry crackers or maybe some bread? I'm still not feeling well," she explained, hoping Eileen would not question her further; she did not know how much Severus had told his mother about their unique situation.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Let me get you some bread. I just baked a loaf this morning."

While Eileen washed her hands and prepared Hermione's breakfast, Hermione sat at the table next to Harry.

"How did it go?" Harry whispered. "What did he say when you told him you were married?"

"I didn't exactly have a chance to tell him," Hermione said under her breath.

Harry groaned and then shuddered. "I don't want to know what two of you were doing instead of talking."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed before lowering her voice. "For goodness sake! He doesn't think of me like that, and you, of all people, should know that," she whispered harshly in an attempt to hide the pain of her words. "He hugged me, I cried all over him, and then he fell asleep. That's all."

Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "All right! No need to get all prudish," he said, his eyes filled with mirth.

"Prudish?" Hermione narrowed her eyes and playfully punched him in the arm. "I am not prudish!"

"Here is your bread, dear. Would you like some jam?" Eileen asked, her dark eyes taking in the interaction between the two friends as she placed the plate on the table.

"Oh, no. Thank you," Hermione replied with a grateful smile. "This is perfect."

"Well, I'll just finish up my baking, then. I'm running a bit behind today, and I need to get these pasties down to the bakery before seven-thirty. Muggles seem to adore pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes. They're quite popular at the bakery, and Mr Smythe will never forgive me if I'm late for my morning delivery," Eileen said as she bustled about the kitchen.

"Would you like some help?" Hermione asked before biting into the soft slice of freshly baked bread.

Eileen smiled over her shoulder. "That would be lovely. I doubt Severus will be up for at least another hour or two, so you and I can chat. Why don't you eat your bread, and then I'll put you to work."

*******

Harry was summarily dismissed by the two witches and sent to St Mungo's to fetch a Healer for Severus. As soon as he Disapparated, Eileen smiled at Hermione fondly.

"I've always wanted a granddaughter, you know," Eileen said, handing Hermione a rolling pin.

Hermione returned the smile but was inwardly puzzled. If Severus had told his mother about the pregnancy, surely he would have told her that the baby was a boy.

The two women worked well together, rolling and cutting and assembling the batches of pasties as they chatted. Finally, all that was left was the baking.

"So, tell me about your mother," Eileen said as she placed the first batch of pumpkin pasties into the oven.

Hermione was confused by the question. "Um ... what would you like to know?"

Eileen leaned against the counter, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Anything and everything! Severus has told me nothing!"

Hermione blinked at the strange answer. Why would Eileen expect Severus to talk about her mother? "Well, she's a dentist."

Eileen stared at Hermione in astonishment. "She's a Muggle?"

"Yes," Hermione replied shortly.

"I mean no offence, dear. I'm just surprised," Eileen explained, leaning forward to pat Hermione's hand. "What else can you tell me about her?"

"I'm really not sure what you want to know," Hermione reiterated. "She's a lot like me, I suppose. We both like to read a lot and learn new things. We're both stubborn and determined." Hermione glanced at the other woman's expectant face and sighed. "Her favourite colour is blue, and she likes to go dancing with my father on the weekends."

Eileen goggled at the young witch. "He takes her dancing? Your father takes her ... dancing?"

"Yes," Hermione said impatiently. It was as if her parents were undergoing some sort of test, and it was making her feel terribly uncomfortable. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Eileen shook her head. "No, no. It's just so different from what I expected. Severus has always hated dancing."

Hermione tilted her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What does Severus have to do with my dad taking my mum out dancing?"

Eileen paled, and one arm reached out to the counter to steady herself. "You mean he's not ... you're not ... but he called out your ... and then you slept .... Oh, dear. I think I need to sit down."

Alarmed, Hermione rushed forward to help her mother-in-law into a chair. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Eileen sat at the table and waved a dismissive hand as Hermione sat in the adjacent chair. "I'm fine. I just need a moment. I know so little about Severus' life, and I assumed ...." Her gaze turned severe as she looked at Hermione. "Just who are you to my son?"

That certainly answered the question of whether or not Severus had spoken of her to his mother. But then why would he? a little voice asked. Hermione felt the familiar ache in her heart but pushed it away.

"I'm his friend, and a former student."

Eileen nodded as she rubbed a weary hand over face. "Please, tell me you're over seventeen."

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly recovered. "I'm almost nineteen."

"Thank Merlin for that," Eileen muttered.

"Oh, no," Hermione rushed to say, her cheeks pink, "it's not like that." Not exactly.

"No? Just how is it then?" Eileen asked stiffly.

"It's ... complicated," Hermione said. "I think perhaps Severus should be the one to explain things to you."

Eileen gaze was penetrating, her dark eyes seeming to attempt to see right through her. "My son cares a great deal for you. How do you feel about him?"

Hermione's eyes filled with tears, and once again, she cursed her out-of-control hormones. "I care for him a great deal, as well."

The older witch stared at Hermione for a moment, before standing. "Good. Well, these pasties aren't going to finish themselves. Let's get this done and down to the bakery before Severus wakes up."

*******

Hermione shook her head as she walked up the stairs with Severus' breakfast tray. "What a strange conversation," she said under her breath.

Luckily, the two witches had got on rather well after the odd misunderstanding, both sharing a love of books. Hermione had been delighted to find that Eileen was knowledgeable of both Muggle and wizarding literature, something that was difficult to find in the magical world. Eileen also possessed the same dry wit that Hermione so adored in Severus, and her laughter had rung throughout the tiny kitchen.

Reaching the top floor bedroom, Hermione transferred the tray to one hand and quickly knocked on the door. The anticipation of seeing Severus again caused her to tingle from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

"Enter."

She opened the door and walked into the room, her cheerful smile faltering at the imposing figure glowering at her from the bed. Severus had propped himself against the headboard, his arms folded across his chest and his face twisted into a scowl. She had not seen him this agitated since he had been her professor.

"Is something the matter?"

"Tell me," Severus said coldly, "just when did you plan on sharing with me the happy news?"

Hermione had just about had her fill of confusing conversations for one morning. Wearily, she placed the tray over his lap and sank into the chair next to his bed. "What happy news?"

Severus sneered. "Why, about your marriage, of course."

A/N: Just a note to the non-British readers ... pasties are quite different from pastries. A traditional Cornish pasty is a pastry-like semi-circular shell, filled with savoury ingredients, such as diced meat, potatoes, and onion. There are other kinds of pasties, as well, including sweet pasties such as apple and figgy, and even banana and chocolate.

My profound thanks to Subversa, DeeMichelle, and LettyBird for all their help.