CAN I ASK YOU FOR A FAVOR?

THE TYPE OF FAVOR THAT INVOLVES MEETING YOU AT OUR HOME SPONTANEOUSLY?

NOT AT THE MOMENT.

MORE'S THE PITY.

SMART ASS.

MOUTH, MY WITCH.

YOU SURE SEEM TO LIKE THE THINGS I CAN DO WITH MY MOUTH.

YOU WOULD NOT BE WRONG IN THAT ASSUMPTION.

SO, DO I GET MY FAVOR?

IF IT'S WITHIN MY POWER YOU KNOW I WILL GRANT YOU ANYTHING.

I'VE BEEN READING TO HARRY.

I'M PRETTY SURE I SAW EVIDENCE THAT HE'S CAPABLE OF READING.

HARDY HAR HAR. SERIOUSLY, WE HAVE NOTHING TO DO, BUT I'VE READ HIM THE FEW BOOKS I HAVE THAT HE'D FIND INTERESTING.

OKAY.

What could he possibly help her with?

YOU KNOW I TEND TO GRAVITATE TOWARD THE HORROR AND MYSTERY OR SUSPENSE GENRES. I LIKE TRYING TO SEE IF I CAN FIGURE IT OUT.

YES.

WELL, WE'VE COME TO THE DECISION AFTER READING CUJO THAT MAYBE A LITTLE LESS DIRENESS WHILE WEARING AN EVIL LOCKET WOULD BE BEST.

THAT MAKES SENSE.

SO, I'M HOPING YOU CAN PICK OUT A HANDFUL OF MORE HUMOROUS BOOKS. FICTION. HARRY'S NOT A NON-FICTION PERSON.

ANY IN MIND?

I ONLY KNOW WHAT SOME OF THE OTHER MUGGLEBORN WITCHES AT HOGWARTS HAVE READ SO, UM JOANNE FLUKE AND JANET EVANOVICH COME TO MIND. I'M SURE IF YOU ASKED SOMEONE AT A BOOKSTORE THEY'D HAVE RECOMMENDATIONS.

I CAN DO THIS. DO YOU NEED SOMETHING NOW?

NO, WE SHOULD BE FINE UNTIL SATURDAY.

VERY WELL.

THANK YOU. I CAN PAY YOU BACK.

He scoffed that.

THAT IS ABSOLUTELY NOT NECESSARY. I WOULDN'T TAKE IT EVEN IF YOU OFFERED IT. I WISH THERE WAS MORE THAT I COULD DO FOR YOU CURRENTLY SO IT PLEASES ME THAT I CAN DO THIS.

I LIKE PLEASING YOU.

He groaned softly at that. She was a pleasing witch in many ways he was coming to find out.

AS DO I, WITCH. PLEASING AND BEING PLEASED.

YOUR DREAM LAST NIGHT MADE THAT QUITE CLEAR.

He felt his face get warm and knew he was blushing. Albus clearing his throat followed by a soft chuckle alerted Severus to the fact the old coot saw it.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW AROUSED I GOT KNOWING THAT WAS WHY YOU ASKED ME TO MEET YOU.

UM, I HAVE AN IDEA JUDGING BY THE WETNESS ON MY BACK AND ASS.

His lips quirked up into the hint of a smile as he thought of that. Truthfully, he hadn't thought of much else since that day. He never in a million years imagined any witch inviting him home for a mid-afternoon romp. In the past if he'd even dared to envision himself taking a witch as his wife he assumed their activities in the bedroom would be a chore. He knew what a witch was getting with him was no great prize.

Yet, Hermione did not make him feel that way at all. She clearly desired him. Forget her actions. Her dreams clearly conveyed that she wanted him.

TRUST ME, YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

INTERESTING.

SO DID YOU LIKE THAT DREAM?

He wouldn't have asked the question if she hadn't mentioned it. He'd been rather ashamed of it when he'd woken up and had time to think about the events in the light of day. His hellhound had claimed her wolf as his mate. And very thoroughly.

IS IT BAD THAT I DID?

AS IT WAS MY DREAM, ABOUT YOU, I'D OF COURSE BE INCLINED TO SAY NO.

THEN I DID. MY KNICKERS WERE QUITE WET WHEN I WOKE UP ACTUALLY.

He groaned softly.

DID YOU LIKE THAT DREAM?

I DID AS WELL. I WILL NOT DENY ON MORE THAN ONE OF OUR RUNS HE HAS WANTED TO DO JUST THAT.

THE FIRST RUN?

INDEED, INCLUDING THE FIRST ONE. I'M NOT SURE FIRENZE KNEW WHO THE WOLF WAS, BUT HE KNEW THOSE WERE MY INSTINCTS.

WELL, WHEN IT'S A LITTLE WARMER.

His cock practically jumped to attention at that.

REALLY?

I MEAN I KNOW WE HAVE FUR, BUT THE SNOW AND EVERYTHING. I MEAN IT KIND OF MAKES SENSE, DOESN'T IT?

THAT MY HELLHOUND WOULD WANT TO LAY CLAIM TO YOUR WOLF?

YES.

AS MUCH AS I WANT TO LAY CLAIM TO MY MATE, YES.

SAME.

ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT?

YES. NIGHTS ARE THE WORST WITH THE LOCKET. OTHERWISE, WE TRY NOT TO WEAR IT FOR TOO LONG AT ONE TIME DURING THE DAY.

BE CAREFUL.

YOU KNOW WE ARE BEING CAREFUL.

I DO. DO YOU NEED ANYTHING BESIDES FUNNY BOOKS?

JUST YOU.

YOU HAVE THAT.

AND THAT MAKES ME THE LUCKIEST WITCH.

OR THE INSANEST.

NO, THAT TITLE BELONGS TO DRACO'S AUNT I BELIEVE.

He chuckled at that.

TOO TRUE. I MUST GO TO LUNCH NOW.

AH, YES, HEADMASTER DUTIES. HAVE A GOOD MEAL.

He couldn't say that back to her, knowing she did not have access to food as he did. So, he said nothing, putting the notebook away.

"Care to share with the rest of the class, Severus?" Albus' portrait said.

"No," he said.

Albus chuckled softly.

"She wants books," he said finally.

"Of course she does," Albus said, his chuckle grew louder too.

Severus could only nod.

He made his way to the Great Hall for lunch. As he took his seat, he wished once more that there was a way for Hermione and Potter to get food. He wouldn't risk sending an elf and he didn't want to know where they were. Not knowing was safest. He hated how thin she looked, though, each time it was a little more than the last time. She'd assured him they were both doing what they could to ensure proper nutrition was kept up, but he was confident she was giving The Boy Who Lived larger portions. She ate at his home once in a while, but said she felt guilty doing so knowing Potter did not get something nearly as pleasant. He'd offered to give her food to take back with her, but she'd declined, indicating Potter would ask where it had come from.

Valid point.

Evidently he was already asking questions about her laundry treks as it was. He sighed heavily, glancing at the others at the head table before looking out over the students. He just wanted it all to be over with. He wanted the students' lives to get back to normal, whatever that was. He knew that normal post-war would be very different than it was leading up to this year. He hoped for the better and with him able to guide Hogwarts into that post-war future.

He wanted to live.

For the first time in his life he wanted something that wasn't death, an end to his cursed existence. He was no longer living toward the end of gaining Lily's forgiveness. Hermione's point months ago was probably accurate that Lily had long ago forgiven him for not just his slur thrown at her in a moment of anguish but him being the one to tell Voldemort of the prophecy.

It was an odd feeling and he suspected she was relieved. He knew it wasn't healthy to hold onto her memory as long as he had. It was a good excuse, and really there was no one before now he would have wanted anyway.

He wanted it all.

A wife.

A home.

Children.

Hermione's children.

Grandchildren.

She'd mentioned marriage, inasmuch as it should come before children. Of course he was aware of that fact. It meant, though, the thought of marriage to him had occurred to her. That pleased him immensely, and humbled him more than he thought possible. He wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve her, but he vowed to stop questioning it.

Easier said than done, he realized. It was innate in him by now to question anything good or positive.

He wondered for the first time if he could create his dreams, influence them. Not all of their shared dreams were sexual in nature. His favorite, truthfully, was one she'd had of them sitting in his sitting room in Spinner's End, reading in front of the fireplace. She was lying against him, her head on his leg, and he would let his fingers run through her curls every few page turns. It had been … nice, and he wanted that.

While he imagined the sex would be appealing for a long time to come given he'd waited so long to actually partake in it. Well, and quite honestly he didn't see himself tiring of or not wanting to enjoy everything about Hermione for many, many years.

Minerva glared at him, but her eyes looked curious. He wondered what he looked like to others that put that curiosity in her eyes.

He stood then.

"I've heard that curiosity killed the cat, Professor McGonagall," he whispered as he walked behind her.

Her hmmph was all he heard as he left the Great Hall.

It was childish and petty he knew. Now that he actually wanted to survive the war, well, he couldn't wait to see the looks on everyone's faces when his truth was revealed. Of course, if Minerva and the others hadn't reacted this way it would've meant he hadn't done his job. While he was perhaps not the greatest potions instructor, he was an exceptional spy.

Story ©Susan Matthews/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com