Chapter 6
Hermione sleeps peacefully in their bed as Severus sits watching from the edge, captivated as always by the way her ivory skin and tangled curls glow with the early morning light.
“Come back to bed,” her sweet voice mumbles as he gently sweeps a lock of hair from her face.
“Go back to sleep, Love,” he soothes quietly with a contented smile. “I’ll return soon.”
Not even the frantic bustle of Diagon Alley could damper the tingling warmth nestled deep in Severus’s chest as he sweeps through the crowded streets— an increasingly familiar feeling he has grown quite fond of, thanks to her.
Hermione.
Severus smiles to himself as he draws closer to his destination, pondering not for the first time how it is possible that this is his life now. Every day for months, he would ask himself if he could possibly be dreaming— but instead of waking up to find her gone (or himself finally arriving to some mysterious afterlife), there she was… nestled in his arms every morning, her amber eyes sleepily blinking up at him with an adorably crooked smile.
As those first few months turned to years, Severus savored every moment she gave him, ever-aware that someday she may choose to leave him. He knew that Hermione loved him— she was determined, as in all things, to never let him forget. But she is so young, so brilliant, so simply divine… and the dark and perilous storms of war that once seized them have dissipated now, taking with it the looming threat of never seeing tomorrow and perhaps… perhaps the urgency of her love for him.
How could she not want more, now that she can have the world? He would think to himself, time and time again as the months ticked by.
How could she want me?
He told himself he would let her go if that day ever came, even as they purchased an old Victorian husk of a house and turned it into a home.
If that day ever came…
He tried not to let those words haunt him— How tired he was of feeling forever haunted by something.
Regardless… when they visited her parents (their memories now fully restored, thanks to Severus’s brewing skills and Hermione’s determined ingenuity) for the winter holidays, he wondered if they might keep his Slytherin green stocking or simply toss it into the fire if that day ever did come. Would she want to drop the ‘S’ from the sign of their apothecary? And what of their books, all mixed and sorted together in the library now? Would she keep the photographs of them neatly tucked away in a new box labelled ‘Severus’ or burn those, too?
Would she wish to keep those remnants of me… would she want to remember me?
But Severus knew that the little witch was a sentimental creature at heart. Yes… he would let her go if that day ever came. And it would have to be enough for him to live amongst those memories with her, knowing that she would always keep him safely tucked away wherever she went.
When he finally asked her why she squirreled away so many bits and scraps in her bottomless box of memories, she had turned to him with a smile and said, “You’ll thank me when we’re old and senile.”
That was just days ago, and he has found himself wandering occasionally through their home ever since, seeing everything so differently than he had before.
The parcel that Severus has just returned from retrieving feels like it just might burn a hole in his pocket as he enters the study. Hermione is here, as expected, nearly buried behind mountains of books as she pours over her latest project. Severus quietly sits in front of her desk, watching fondly as she absently mutters to herself.
Severus cracks open the small box in his hands, incapable of concealing the broad smile tugging at his mouth as he looks down at the simple emerald-cut diamond ring nestled into a puff of velvet. He places the open box on one of her precarious paper mountains as covertly as possible before leaning back in his chair.
“Do you remember what I said to you that night in the lake, my dear witch?” He finally asks, having lost himself in simply watching her.
“Severus Snape,” she huffs, “Don’t you dare— Oh!” Hermione claps a hand to her mouth as she finally raises her head, her eyes landing on the box. “What…”
Severus can’t help but chuckle as he stands, meeting her wide-eyed gaze as he moves around the desk to stand before her.
“I said that you would have a brilliant, beautiful life,” he says softly, taking her hand and drawing her up to stand. “And that you would grow old with someone who can give you everything you deserve… with someone who deserves you…”
He gently cups the side of her face in one hand, his chest swelling with emotion as he brushes a single tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“Well, I’ve watched as you’ve built that life… Brilliant and beautiful, just like you, my dear witch, and you have been kind enough to include me in it… you’ve allowed me to help you build that life, here, by your side… and I…” Severus pauses as his voice threatens to break, just knowing that the way she is looking at him now will forever be burned into his soul as his heart thrums wildly in his chest.
“… I would very much love to grow old with you, Hermione. If you will have me.”
The words have scarcely left him when Hermione surges forward to cup his face with her slender hands, and he’s drawing her firmly against his chest as she swiftly captures his lips with her own in an urgent, heated kiss as they melt against one another.
Don’t ever make me let you go… He pleads silently, his heart tender and aching as she finally pulls back the slightest bit. It would kill me to let you go… he thinks desperately as their shallow breaths mingle, their mouths a mere hairs-breadth apart.
He feels her next words whisper against his parted lips, like a tangible caress sent to soothe the last bruise left on his once battered and bloodied heart…
“Always, Severus.”
The End.
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