Unforgettable

A/N –

Thanks to all who have reviewed. It pushes the muse to keep going. I must apologize though. This isn’t the last chapter, like I had anticipated. I’m tying up loose ends and get Severus to admit that he loves Hermione. Sigh! Blame it on him! He’s being stubborn. Tons of thanks to Kathy Rose for beta reading in a fandom she really isn\'t used to. Special thanks to Larilee who fawns over my version of Snape. And lots of thanks to Stormi who pointed out a couple of boo boos. They are fixed now. The next chapter has lemons. Did I mention that? Giggle!

–

Chapter Twenty-One –

She waited for him nervously in the sitting room. Why should she be nervous? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t shagged each other’s brains out before. Grinning, Hermione perused the books that lined the walls.

True to her word, she was now Hermione Snape. She and Severus were married shortly after all the contracts had been signed. Not only was she married, she had tacked on so many provisions to the contract, the twins had turned bright red with anger. She didn’t know how she was going to manage it, working full-time at Gringotts and raising a child, but she was now Head of Research and Development of Weasleys\' Wizarding Wheezes. Ever since she was a Prefect her fifth year and they’d ignored her authority, she’d wanted to stick it to them.

Not only had she made it so they could not inflict any more damage on unsuspecting wizards and witches, she’d made the provision to curse them with a lifetime Underage Wizard spell. After all, if they acted like overgrown children, why not treat them as such? She did, however, opt out of the nanny clause. There was no way she was going to entrust her child to those two dunderheads.

Hermione chuckled. Her thoughts sounded like Severus’. Dunderheads indeed! The Penseive memory showed her how wrong she was.

She’d thought them incompetent of brewing such a complicated potion. She’d been wrong to accuse Severus.

Her thoughts wandered to her husband, who had placed a chaste kiss upon her lips at the civil ceremony, but had yet to touch her since. After the contracts were signed, Albus, she, and Severus took a Portkey back to Hogsmeade.

Fred and George had been remanded into the custody of their parents. Judging by the pitch of Molly’s voice as she chastised them on the way to the fireplaces in the Atrium, the twins were probably regretting their hasty decision to settle things out of court.

Running her fingers over the worn backs of the books, Hermione sighed in contemplation. The day’s events ran through her mind over and over again along with the memory that she had gathered from the Penseive.

She’d asked him why, yet she still had no answer. A familiar heat pooled in her loins as she recalled the memory. His hand on her hip and a husky whisper of good morning. He had been waking her up, or at least trying to.

But she hadn’t even give him a chance. She hadn’t given him a chance to explain, or to proceed seducing her. Tonks had jumped to the same conclusion she had. It was just like when they were children and they had suspected Snape of trying to steal the Sorcerer’s Stone, even though there was no real evidence to support that suspicion.

Hermione’s conscience drew little comfort from the years of thinking the worst of Severus Snape. It had basically been bred into her. Think the worst of him, and then let him prove his innocence. Even though she’d known he was working for the Order, she’d still had those lingering doubts about his loyalties.

Severus hadn’t even tried to defend himself. Apparently he was used to people thinking the worst of him. Try as she might, she couldn’t rationalize his actions. She needed more of an answer than what he had provided in the Penseive.

What she needed was the truth. Would he ever volunteer it willingly? Probably not. There was only one way to get what she wanted. If Severus had seen fit to alter her memory, then she would just need to adopt some Slytherin tactics.

--

Severus slithered through the halls of Hogwarts, on patrol and looking for errant dunderheads. These were the same halls that echoed with the putrid memories of the golden trio. And now he was married to one of them.

He didn’t know whom he hated more, the blasted Weasley twins or Albus Dumbledore. Not only had the headmaster abused his Wizengamot privileges by getting those two criminals off, Albus had planted a seed.

Severus snorted in disgust as he stared out at the moonlight through the castle window. He no more loved Hermione Granger than…than he loved Albus Dumbledore.

No. That wasn’t right. He admired Dumbledore. Hermione was cut from a similar cloth. She was a bloody Gryffindor after all. Those ridiculous Gryffindor traits played right into his hands. She’d done the “noble thing” and “sacrificed” herself to save those twits.

How could he refuse?

She was bound to him and had sworn an oath to share his bed willingly. The dull ache that tugged in his gut was growing and he could feel the need to skive off his duties and go fuck his wife senseless. After all, she wanted that as much as he did.

“Love is problematic, “ Albus’ voice rattled in his mind.

“Be quiet, you meddlesome old fool,” Severus hissed out loud.

Albus had been all too happy to bind them, making a fool of himself fawning over Madame Snape and inviting her to the great hall for meals. This was preposterous. All he really wanted to do was lock himself and his new wife in the dungeon and shag her until neither of them could stand.

Hermione would allow it, after all. She would beg him for it, for she was a powerless as he was.

He didn’t remember starting to walk, much less how he had gotten to the dungeons of Hogwarts. But he could sense she was near.

The sun would be rising soon so his shift was officially over. Undoing the wards on his private chambers, Severus entered the sitting room and stopped dead in his tracks. His wife had waited up for him.

She wore a short, somewhat sheer dressing gown that clung to her feminine curves as though it were inviting him to take its place. A book was open on her chest and tucked beneath her chin, covering her breasts. She shivered and sighed as she slumbered.

Kneeling before her, he reached out to touch her. The lust that had gone without for only a day or two came to life inside him, weakening him. His trousers grew tight.

Would it always be like this? The constant yearning to be within her would drive a lesser wizard insane. He touched her thigh, pushing the fabric of her gown up until she grimaced and moaned.

“Potion,” she murmured with a desperate frown. “Love me.”

She tossed her head to one side, seemingly lost in an unpleasant dream.

Even in her dreams, she asked for the impossible. He was incapable. He simply didn’t believe in love. Love was an immeasurable figment of every sentient being’s psyche – a rationalization for monogamy and idiotic gestures of affection.

“Just the potion,” she sobbed, obviously distressed in the realm of Morpheus.

Moving his hand from her thigh to her stomach, Severus felt a surge of overwhelming protectiveness for the child who grew within her. Would they have a son or a daughter? Whatever the sex of the child, he prayed he or she looked like their mother.

Hermione had affirmed everything he knew to be true. He was anything but classically handsome. She was young and…beautiful, he admitted begrudgingly. She had definitely grown out of the awkward gangly teenager stage. She was an intelligent, ever-questioning witch.

He’d always been attracted to her intelligence. Her body was an added bonus. Her hips had enough flesh to grab hold of for him to anchor himself within her. Her breasts were ivory globes with rose-tipped crowns, ecstasy to suckle and arouse. She wasn’t thin like most model witches. Hermione’s body reminded him of the famous painting by Sandro Botticelli, “The Birth of Venus,” complete with the untamed hair that draped the goddess’ body in a mock attempt at modesty. The only difference was that Hermione’s hair was chestnut brown compared to the love goddess’ golden tresses.

Severus pulled his hand away as though he had been burned. Bloody hell! He was comparing his wife to a famous painting. What was next? Would he start spouting poetry to her?

This blasted potion was affecting him more than he wanted to admit. Transfiguring the book into a duvet and arranging it around her body, he walked away.

--

Opening her eyes, Hermione was aware of two things – the urge to use the loo and the reminder that settees do not sleep comfortably. Throwing the duvet off, she dashed to the toilet and relieved herself. Her mind clicked slowly into awareness as she walked back into the sitting room.

She’d waited up for him. Did he ever return last night?

Unable to resist, Hermione opened the door to his bedchambers. His bed had yet to be made and it had definitely been slept in. Unexpected tears burned in her eyes as she realized the depth of her mistake. Severus Snape no more loved her than he loved Hinkypunks or Kneazles.

What a fool she had been.

The dormant fireplace sparked to life and Hermione wiped her sleeve across her eyes. It would not do to have the man see her distraught.

“Hermione?” Ginny’s disembodied voice called out from the fireplace. “Are you there?”

Plastering a smile upon her lips, Hermione stepped forward. “I’m here, Ginny.”

“Would it be okay if I came through?” Ginny asked. “I have someone here who is feeling a tad neglected.”

Hermione looked around apprehensively. “Yes, please,” Hermione replied. “Do come through.”

Green flames shot higher and Ginny and company appeared before her eyes. A soot-covered ginger cat jumped out of the redheaded witch’s arms and sneezed.

Hermione smiled. “Crookshanks! Oh Crookshanks, I’m so sorry! With everything that is going on I completely forgot. I –”

The cat sauntered over to the nearest piece of furniture, jumped onto it, and started cleaning himself, ignoring his owner.

Seeing how insulted her pet was, Hermione stopped apologizing to the cat and looked at Ginny. “Thank you so much, Ginny. I don’t know what would have happened to him if you –”

“It’s all right, Hermione,” Ginny interrupted. “He can pretty much take care of himself, that one can. How are you?”

Hermione’s forced smile grew wider as she motioned for Ginny to have a seat. “Everything’s fine.”

Ginny looked uncomfortable. “Are you certain? Harry wanted me to check on you.”

She could feel a blush creep into her cheeks. “And why would he want that?” she asked snappishly.

Looking around the unfamiliar surroundings, Ginny stared at the woman next to her. “Because he’s concerned for you. We all are. You have to admit, marrying Professor Snape is…is kind of creepy. When he announced that he wouldn’t file any complaints against Fred and George on the condition that you would marry him, everybody was speechless.”

Hermione reached for Crookshanks, trying to ignore the recap of yesterday’s events. She didn’t need Ginny reminding her of the mistake she had made.

“I just never imagined that you and Professor Snape held a mutual regard for one another,” Ginny continued. “George and Fred are beside themselves, convinced that you have fallen on your sword for them by agreeing to marry Snape.”

“It isn’t a mutual regard,” Hermione whispered shakily, bits and pieces of Severus’ remarks finally clicking into place. “He is just securing his place in his child’s life. He cares nothing for me.”

“Don’t be daft, Hermione,” Ginny said as she walked toward the fireplace. “Of course, he loves you. You and he never would have…would have…well, you know. Why do you think there weren’t more people at the ball who were affected by the potion? It had to be taken by two people who were already in love with one another to work. Professor Snape loves you.”

Hermione scratched her familiar behind his ears. “Even if he did, it’s just the potion. You love Harry, yet you refuse to marry him.”

“Actually,” Ginny interrupted, “Harry and I are getting married.”

Hermione winced as Ginny\'s announcement ended with her shrieking in excitement.

“Isn’t that great?” the redhead asked. “I thought it was just the potion, but Harry convinced me otherwise. After we left the Ministry, he and I went back to his place and…well…you know. Before I could pull my usual, ‘I hate you, Harry Potter’ routine, he spiked my drink with Veritaserum.”

“He did what?” Hermione asked incredulously, momentarily forgetting her own problems. This sounded like something Severus would do.

“He then proceeded to drink the rest of the Veritaserum to prove to me how much he loved me,” Ginny said with a smile. “The bloody git took too much of it and is now in St. Mungo’s.”

“Is he all right?” Hermione asked in awe.

“That remains to be seen,” Ginny replied, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. “He’s been going on about how much he loves me. When he started loving me. Comparing me to all sorts of poetic nonsense and begging me to marry him. I have to get back to the hospital.”

Waving goodbye, Ginny stood in the fireplace and tossed the powder at her feet. “St. Mungo’s Hospital.”

Hermione, a plot hatching in her mind, watched as her friend disappeared.

*****

A/N – Next up! Severus admits how he feels. It really will be the last chapter!