"Ready?"

Hermione asked as they approached the fireplace in his lab.

They'd had the fireplace in the lab connected to the floo network since Hermione had substituted at Hogwarts more than once since that first time three months ago. She also had a standing engagement with Poppy. While she did not have her degree yet, Poppy was taking advantage of having someone thinking students' mental wellbeing was just as important as their physical and picking Hermione's brains on various "problem children".

"No," he said with a pout and she leaned up to kiss the side of his mouth, brushing some of his hair away from his face.

His eyes fell closed at the contact. He still thought after all of this time that he didn't deserve affection of any kind. Most particularly though this sort. Touches. Kindness. It made her want to do it all the more.

"I know you're not. We can stay home… No one will know."

"No," he huffed, the pout increasing and she gave a soft giggle as she kissed his lower lip. "You'd know," he said. He kissed the palm of her hand, an attempt to hide the vulnerability in those two words no doubt.

And that was the crux of it. He did not like appearing weak to her. Not that deciding that he was not ready to visit Hogwarts today for the first time in four years would make her think that of him.

He thought it would, though.

Together they made their way into their fireplace and to the headmistress' office. Hermione had insisted that Albus be elsewhere or Severus would not come. The former headmaster had pouted and stammered, but ultimately he'd agreed. He wanted "his boy" to come home just as much as others did. She hoped the meddler kept to his word.

Her first glance was to the empty portrait, as was her husband's she noticed. She felt a bit of the tension leave his body at that and she knew she'd made the right decision. She didn't like to meddle. She didn't want to be that wife that kept things from her husband or meddled, but she knew that his first time here he would not want to see Albus Dumbledore, portrait or no.

Minerva had agreed not to be there as well. Once they arrived, Severus whispered the command that she imagined secured the floo so that no one else could get through.

He took in the office, eyes darting between all of the portraits. She saw a slight nod of acknowledgement between Severus and Phineas. Otherwise, the room was too quiet despite all but Dumbledore being present in their portrait. No doubt they knew Severus was coming and wanted to see him. She'd expected someone to say something to the man.

As they started toward the door that would lead from the office the room was suddenly filled with the sound of applause and even a whistle or two. Severus paused, but did not turn around to look at the portraits. He merely shook his head and lifted his hand to wave with his back to them. She heard a soft sound that might have been him trying to choke back a sob. She slid her arm around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder. She didn't say anything. She didn't look at him. She knew he would not … like that.

Despite their comfort with one another and the change in their relationship once they had both admitted their feelings, she knew there were things he was very private about. Displaying emotion like this, showing vulnerability, was not something he was good at. He may realize she heard and knew, but he would not want her to see him in what he considered a weak moment.

He nodded after a minute or two and she knew Severus Snape was back and lifted her head from his shoulder and brushed the back of his hand with hers. He took the offered hand, clasping it a little tighter than usual for a second or two. And then it was business as usual.

They took their leave then, making their way down the stairs, passing the gargoyle to which he nodded, and then on their way through the halls. His hand clutched hers just a bit tighter every time they passed someone. No one said anything to him. A few said hello to her, knowing her from the substitute teaching stints she'd done. They stared, but were quiet as if sensing the man next to her did not wish to be addressed.

He stopped periodically, looking at this or that, but he said nothing and she let him walk silently, taking it all in. He hadn't asked her anything about Hogwarts itself when she'd come home from her teaching over the past couple of months. Questions about the classes or the curriculum, but never about the castle. At first she'd been surprised, but after the first time she realized it made sense.

This had been his home and had held his secrets for years. Only Dumbledore and Hogwarts knew the truth about him. He'd had to be headmaster for a year, allowing things to happen on his watch that he knew went against the very principles of the school he loved so much. Having suffered many hurtful and embarrassing things himself as a student he was especially disgusted with that year.

She thought that of all the people who loved Hogwarts he was one of the few who would be in the running for loving it most of all. She'd heard rumours, read articles in the Prophet, that accused him of not caring, implying that was the reason for his absence. Quite the contrary, as Hermione was learning the closer they got, he cared entirely too much.

He didn't want others to see that side of him. Severus Snape didn't care. Severus Snape was not kind. Severus Snape did not love.

Finally they made it to the grounds where others had gathered and all but a few stopped talking and turned to stare. She supposed they made quite the picture if they weren't expecting them. Whole, and obviously continuing life's journey with a child soon. Together.

She unlaced her fingers from being intertwined with his, but he grabbed on. She nodded simply, twining them together again. She wasn't sure if he wanted even that little bit of demonstration of affection visible to all. She was happy to give him whatever he needed.

They sat with Harry, Ginny, Ron, Neville, and the others. Justin and Susan sat near them, too. Severus' arm stayed around her shoulders the entire service. He did not fidget or touch her hair as he sometimes did when they were out and his hand was behind her. It was there, though, warm, strong, and comforting at her shoulder. She imagined she brought him comfort and strength, too. Knowing that he was providing it to her would give it to him.

She talked with others after the service, keeping an eye on Severus all the while. He hadn't moved from his seat. A few approached him, he shook their hand or nodded his head in acknowledgement but they went on their way quickly. She didn't get the impression he was rude, but he could still be prickly when he wanted to be and she imagined people didn't quite know what to say to him.

Eventually, she joined him, kicking off her shoes and making fists in the grass with her toes much like John McClane did in Die Hard.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, fine. Just resting my ankles and feet for a bit."

He stood then and she wondered where he was going, but he didn't leave. Instead he sat on the ground in front of and faced her. He took one foot in between his hands and rubbed. She groaned softly and whether it was that or just the fact that Severus was rubbing her foot at all, they were drawing all sorts of attention.

"I told you not to wear those shoes," he said, inclining his head toward the offending footwear.

"Yes, well," she said with a shrug.

"It was more than acceptable," he said, gesturing with his head and a shrug in the direction of the podium where Minerva and others had spoken.

"It was," she agreed.

"Thank you for talking me into coming."

"Well, it's time. Don't you think?"

"I didn't really, no, but you wanted to come. Happy wife, happy life or something is what I hear quoted to me in the store by men who cater to their wives inane desires for the latest erotic romance novel no matter if it's even any good."

"Mm, should I read the new releases to see if they're of quality before we put them on the shelves."

"With your hormones where they are currently I'm not sure that wouldn't put me in the hospital."

She giggled softly.

"I'm glad you came, Severus."

"As am I, Wife."

Eventually, Harry and Ginny as well as Justin and Susan came and sat near them. Ginny swatted Harry's shoulder when she saw exactly what Severus was doing to his wife's foot.

"You don't do that for me."

"I," Harry said, glancing from his wife to Hermione who merely shrugged and then to Severus who shook his head.

"I cannot offer you an out on this one, Potter," he said simply.

"Um, when we get home?" Harry said.

"But that will just lead to what got me into this uncomfortable state to begin with!"

Severus shook his head and closed his eyes.

"I may take back my earlier statement of being glad I came," he drawled.

Harry and Ginny stared at him.

"You are?" Harry asked.

"It was … not terrible."

"There's a ball…"

"No," Severus said. "Hermione didn't even mention that to me so she knows my answer."

"But she'd be able to dress up."

"Potter, no," Severus said.

"I'm not trying to sound petulant, really. I understand. It was just nice to see you here. You belong here. And I don't mean just at the memorial service, Sir."

Severus turned his head in the direction of the castle and nodded simply.

Hermione smiled a bit as he slid a hand up just a touch higher than her foot and ankle. Nothing indecent, but it felt nice before he switched to her other foot.

"Whatever you put in his coffee this morning, Hermione," Ginny said. "You should sell it."

Hermione laughed lightly as she shifted on the chair a bit. "I didn't put anything in his coffee. He's actually quite thoughtful. When I come home from a full day of classes he has a tub with soothing potions waiting for me."

"That's actually sweet."

"He is," she said.

"Please do not let anyone else hear you say that," he hissed but the lift of his lips told her he was teasing.

"Don't worry, you can be the evil git if you want to be. Only Harry, Ginny, Justin, and Susan will know the truth."

"How are you feeling, Mrs. Potter."

"Ginny, or Ginevra as you prefer, please."

"Well?" he queried again but nodded slightly. So he'd heard her.

"Fine," she said. "Really, I can't complain."

"You are getting your potions from Madam Cord?"

"I do."

"Good. Those are mine so you are then getting the best."

"St. Mungo's must know that, they referred me to her."

"They are aware, yes." He regarded Hermione then after a final stroke of his thumb over the heel of her foot. "Better?"

"Yes," she said.

"Better enough to walk some with your husband?"

"Always," she said.

He helped her with her shoes.

"We'll see you next weekend then, yeah?" Harry asked.

"We will," Hermione agreed. They were having dinner, the six of them.

She stood then, smiling when Severus took her hand in his. They walked around the lake a bit before heading back into the castle. It was late enough in the day by now, most everyone who didn't belong here had left.

Minerva found them in the dungeons. They had been standing outside his former classroom for a good ten minutes. He'd made no effort to enter it. He said nothing. He just leaned with his shoulder against the wall, staring. She didn't think he was looking at the door to the classroom specifically, but rather the general area of the hallway they were in as a whole. As many questions as she might have right now about everything, not just how he was feeling, she knew now was not the time to be inquisitive.

"I thought I might find you two, or three I guess, here."

"Mm," Severus said.

"Have you gone in yet?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Will you join us for dinner? Both of you, of course."

Hermione glanced at Severus. The decision was his. She would not influence him anymore than the suggestion of coming to the memorial service today. She would not push. This he would have to do on his own time.

"We will think about it."

"Well, there's always a place for you both. Even if it's not tonight."

"Thank you," he said.

"And I will make no announcement," she said, glancing at Hermione who nodded.

"That certainly improves the chances," her husband said.

"All right, well, I will leave you alone for now. Continue on with your impromptu tour."

"Thank you," he said.

"Your previous quarters are untouched. In fact, no one knows where exactly they even are and are unable to gain access via where we think the entrance is to this day."

He nodded in acknowledgement, lips lifting ever so slightly but Hermione knew he was … amused and proud that his wards were still intact this much after he'd even used the quarters. Minerva went back the way she'd come.

"Those must be some strong wards," Hermione said.

He sniggered. "You could say that. I didn't want to get my throat slit by a student pissed off they'd gotten a troll."

"I can imagine that was of concern to you rather frequently."

"Wouldn't that have been ironic? Survive being a Death Eater and a spy only to be taken out by a pissed off student."

She brushed her hip against his. "Don't even joke about that."

He shrugged and gave a contemplative sigh. "It was my life."

He pushed off from leaning against the wall and closed the distance to the door leading to his former classroom. The door opened for him almost as if bespelled to. Maybe it was. She honestly wouldn't put it past him to do that. She heard him gasp as they entered and she squeezed his hand. She couldn't imagine the memories and feelings this was bringing to the forefront of his mind.

She wished she could do something for him, but she supposed she was doing it by being here beside him.

"Minerva told me nothing down here needed much rebuilding," she said.

"I would imagine not. Who'd come down here? Few knew the dungeon halls well enough to want to fight down here."

"You did."

"Of course," he said. Some would take the statement as him being cocky. And he was, she supposed, but was it cocky when what he was agreeing to was true? No one knew these dungeons as well as Severus Snape. "Have you met this Robillard? I presume he's French?"

"I have, and yes, he is. He's nice."

"Nice," he said.

"Yes," she shrugged. What else could she say? She hadn't sat for tea with him. She'd barely said more than two words to him beyond filling him in on what she'd done in his absence.

"There's no room for nice with potions."

"Is that right? I can think of some very nice things we've done in your lab, and with some potions you've made for us."

He chuckled softly, and she saw just a hint of colour on his cheeks.

"Care to see where the bat of the dungeons called home for years?"

"Really?" Was he kidding? Of course she wanted to see it! He knew her better than to have to even ask. She'd chalk it up to emotion, though anyone else would wonder what emotion she was referring to.

He led her through the classroom to his office. She'd only ever been in it once or twice as a student. When she'd filled in for Professor Robillard she really hadn't had need to and didn't feel comfortable using someone else's private space.

In the corner, or at least what looked like the corner he waved his wand and an opening appeared.

"I wonder if Professor Robillard knows he's being shorted on his office space," Hermione said and Severus chuckled.

"I won't tell if you don't."

They stepped through the opening and with a wave of his hand it sealed up again. Little Miss chose that moment to give Hermione an almost violent kick. She had been quiet most of the day so it was welcome but surprising because it seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Luminous," he murmured.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when they got into what had clearly been his quarters. Bare. Little comfortable. Nothing personal.

She'd been partially correct.

The furniture, while worn from obvious age and use, was obviously comfortable. A wave of their wands and dust and such was gone from various surfaces. And books. So many books. There were no pictures. No plants. No knick knacks. No evidence that someone with any sort of life to speak of called this space home.

Except the books. That's where his personality came through loud and clear.

"You just left these here?" she asked.

"Only you would understand the difficulty in my having to do that."

"I'd say."

It truly looked as if no one had been here for years. Had he come here at all during his time as headmaster? She hoped he'd been able to come here to get away. Then maybe he wouldn't have wanted the taint of that year, what he'd had to allow to happen to be brought within these walls.

"I guess the elves don't know how to get here either?" she asked after a moment of quiet between them.

He was looking at things the same as she was. She spotted a crystal tumbler that was dry, but the dried up residuals of what looked like leftover whisky were still at the bottom. The decanter next to it had the stopper in place so it still had liquid in it.

"No," he said. "They could not. There was one, at the headmaster's direction, who would assist on the real bad nights but he wouldn't betray that confidence even after all of this time."

"He wouldn't come clean?"

"No, that was not his job. His job was to heal me when I couldn't go to Poppy."

"I see," she said.

"Not what you were expecting?"

"Not exactly. I expected something more utilitarian I guess."

"Well, it's certainly not designed to be homey."

"No, but," she said, running a hand over the sofa and then the back of a chair. Again, they weren't stylish or anything. They'd obviously been well used, though. "Obviously you wanted comfort when you were here. As you deserved," she said, meeting his gaze.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a moment.

"She has been moving a lot since we came in here."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes. From the moment we left the office."

There were times Hermione had him run a diagnostic on her to ensure the baby was okay because she was so quiet. It was better than the alternative she supposed of feeling as if her insides were being used like a football. She certainly did that, too, but those violent kicks were few and far between.

Until now.

"Interesting," he said.

He crossed to her then and set his hand over her abdomen. That was responded to with another round of almost violent kicks. She loved the look on his face when he felt their daughter kick and move. She loved knowing that no one else would see that look. He wouldn't allow them to. Well, maybe their daughter when they had another one in a few years. She considered herself lucky indeed.

"Can she feel you, I wonder? Your magic?"

"This is where it was strongest. I valued my privacy and I ensured it wouldn't be violated at all costs. I don't have the drastic security measures at our home that I did here."

"Maybe she's telling you that she could have gotten past them."

"That is a challenge I would enjoy participating in."

"In about eighteen years."

"More like four years."

"You are not!"

"Our child? Are you serious? She will learn and learn young."

"She may not have our thirst for knowledge, Severus, and she deserves a childhood."

"Of course, she can be a child all that she wants, but she will learn all of her father's secrets."

"Lucky girl."

He leaned down then, kissing her. "Her mother already knows them."

"Not all of them."

"So you think," he murmured. "I do have one secret her mummy can help me with."

"Oh?"

"Help me chase the demons of these rooms away."

"Oh!" She smiled widely. He knew he wouldn't have to pose the idea twice. Very rarely did he have to ask once these days. "Your wife agrees to this proposition."

"Does she? I'm shocked," he quipped with a low chuckle.

"Where shall we start?"

"Start?"

"Well, we're not going to chase demons away with just one time."

"I suppose that could be true."

"So I repeat where shall we start?"

"Right here?"

"My, you are naughty, Master Snape. You want me over the arm of the sofa?"

"Yes."

"Well, what are you waiting for," she asked as she shed her robes and crossed to the other side of said sofa so that she could be where he wanted her to be. The heat and wonder in his eyes brought her to her knees nearly every time. This man, this incredible man, truly still didn't believe that she would have him anywhere, anytime he wanted. Pregnancy hormones or not.

"Twenty-one year old me would be incredibly scared right now. Not that twenty-one year old me would have ever imagined a witch like you in my rooms."

"Twenty-one year old you wouldn't be able to keep up with me, Husband."

"He certainly would have enjoyed trying, though."

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com