Custody Battle

A/N: I wrote this on the train while on my way to Carlton, a suburb of Sydney in the middle of nowhere. :)

Christmas evening passed by without a single mention of the kiss, and true to his word, Remus did not tattle on Hermione to anyone. Severus had been less than pleased when his daughter had suggested that the whole lot of them go Christmas caroling all through the nearest village, Ottery St. Catchpole. He’d been even less enthused when Albus and Minerva had arrived at the front door of The Burrow as everyone was heading out. Naturally, they tagged along for the festivities.

A magical top hat, some sleigh bells, eight tiny reindeer, seven swans a swimming, two front teeth, five golden rings, several Christmas trees, a hippopotamus, many snowflakes, and a partridge in a pear tree later, Severus had had all that he could stand. They’d been caroling for hours, singing every Christmas song, both muggle and wizarding, known to man and they’d certainly repeated Jingle Bells at least twice. Finally a reprieve and he nearly jumped for joy seeing The Burrow just a few meters ahead.

Benjamin and Eric had nodded off during the last verse of Silent Night, which had been the last carol of the evening, but had been carried in Blake’s arms since We Wish You A Merry Christmas, nearly a half hour ago. He stood at the fireplace, a snoozing twin in each arm, with Hermione at his side, a sleeping Emma slung over her shoulders. Jocelyn was settled into a corner playing a game of wizard’s chess with Emma Weasley, a cousin that no one could quite remember how she was related to the family. Caterina was beside them, engaged in a game of exploding snap with Teddy Lupin.

“Come on, girls.” Hermione called hem, but neither of her daughters seemed to hear her. “Jocelyn. Caterina, we’re going home now.”

Severus rose from the arm chair near the giant Christmas tree. “Go on ahead, Hermione, I’ll escort them back in a bit.”

She turned her eyes to Blake, who nodded. “You sure you don’t mind?” she asked the wizard. And he shook his head. “Thank you,” she smiled and ducked into the fireplace with her husband and three sleeping children. In a lick of green flames, they were gone.

Hermione yawned, stepping out of the fireplace. Blake appeared right behind her. “I don’ care how many times I do it, I’ll take my car any day of the week over that darn floo.”

His wife chuckled as she carried Emma up the stairs. “That would take longer, dear.”

“I’d still prefer the car,” he added, carrying the boys into their room. He reappeared in the hallway just as Hermione pulled her daughter’s bedroom door shut. She smiled at him, though she looked quite tired. “Emma asleep?” he asked.

“Yes. And the boys?”

“Out like logs, and Eric is snoring.”

She chuckled and was about to say something but his lips captured hers. His strong arms wrapped around her, his tongue stroking hers. They kissed for a moment but Hermione pulled away, giggling as her eyes twinkled up at him. “Blake…we can’t…not now…”

His lips covered hers once more, capturing each giggle. Sliding his mouth down the side of her jaw, he nuzzled her neck and licked at her earlobe. A wide grin spread across his face when she shivered and her face flushed. He suckled her earlobe between his lips, whispering against her ear. “The kids are asleep,” and she shivered again, leaning back against the wall just beside Emma’s door. “And no one else is home…” one hand slid slowly down the side of her body until it reached the hem of her jumper.

She did no push his hands away as they crept up beneath her jumper and cupped her breasts. Arching into his touch, she let her eyes fall closed, heart drumming inside her chest. One of his hands traveled slowly down her stomach and beneath the waistband of her skirt. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips licked at the sensitive spot on her neck. “But…Severus,” she whimpered. “He’ll be home with the girls…soon…” she whispered, her voice low, but very thick, almost lusty.

“Then we’ll just have to be quick.” His lips were on hers, and she melted into them, swatting feebly at his chest a few more times before throwing her arms around his neck and hoisting a leg up and wrapping it around his hip. She whimpered into the kiss, back flush against the wall, begging for more as his hand snaked down into her knickers, thumbing through her slick folds. “I love you,” he breathed against her neck, and then quickly covered her lips with a kiss, his fingers dipping into her warmth.

~*~

Severus was surprised to see Hermione sitting up on the couch when he stepped through the floo several hours later. Hefted high up in one arm he held a sleeping Jocelyn, and slung over the opposite shoulder was his sleeping daughter. “You’re still up,” he said a hint of worry present in his voice.

“Yes. I wanted to make sure you all got home safely.” Slowly, she stood from the couch. “Would you take the girls upstairs? I’ll put on some tea.” He nodded and carefully made his way up the stairs, two slumbering girls blissfully unaware that they were being tucked into their beds.

She was seated at the kitchen table, sipping from her cup when he returned. He studied her carefully for a moment and then spoke. “Hermione, I want to apologize for the—”

“Don’t.” She waved her hand at him and he fell silent. Her arm gestured to the chair across from him and he sat down. “It’s not your fault, Remus is right, it’s not like I was fighting you.” She fell quiet, pensive eyes gazing into her tea. “I’m sorry for slapping you,” and her eyes lifted, locking with his. “I didn’t— I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

He snorted. “That pathetic little tap wouldn’t have hurt a fly.”

She chuckled for a moment but then the smile faded from her face. “I can’t let that happen again,” she said, finishing her tea. With a wave of her wand she scourgified the cup and banished it to the cupboard. “I love my husband.”

Severus had come to stand behind her, both hands resting gently on her shoulders. “I know.”

“I do, Severus, I love Blake. I made love to him not but a half hour before you came home with the girls.” She fell silent once more. Her eyes closed and she turned to face him. “I can’t keep— keep—”

He pressed his finger to her lips. “I know.” He whispered, locking eyes with her. They were silent, gazing into each other’s eyes; Hermione’s threatening to well with tears. “Don’t cry. I forbid it. You’re not a puddle of goo whose sole purpose in life is to produce liquid saline.” He swiped his thumbs over her eyes. “Go. Upstairs, right now, to your bed, with your husband.”

“I’m not a—”

“Go.” His voice was stern; a tone which even eleven years later was all too familiar to her ear. That teaching tone he often used to command respect and authority from his pupils. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against his chest for a moment and then she pulled back, nodded her head and left the kitchen.