Battle Scars

Hermione jumped up, and looked at Severus. “Where the hell have you been all day? I have been out of my mind with these kids, they’re driving me up the wall!” Ophelia and Sirius screamed with laughter and began to pelt her with raisins. “My-mee! My-mee! My-mee!” They began to run around in circles again.

“May we... have a minute alone?” Severus looked at Remus icily and crossed his hands over his chest. The twins changed their chant to “da-dee, da-dee,” but the raisins continued to fly.

“Certainly, I’m sorry- I’ll try to catch up with you tommorrow.” Severus didn’t say anything, and Hermione smiled sheepishly. Severus stared Remus down as he left, clearly very embarrassed. He closed the door quietly.

“Do you often entertain male visitors when I’m out for the evening?” he glared at her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, what am I supposed to think when I walk in and my wife is cuddling on the couch with a werewolf?” he sneered at her.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything? And why are you avoiding the question?” she stared him down defiantly, daring him to answer.

“Conference went late. And what happened in here?” he looked around the room, surveying the devastation.

“The kids were a little more animated than usual today,” she looked at her shoes. Although she considered herself a feminist, she was heartily embarrassed by the fact that she couldn’t keep the house tidy and mind the babies. Ginny had just received top marks in her first year of auror traning, and Hermione was unable to go to bed without a sinkful of dishes.

“Well, I’ve got to get to bed, I have an early morning meeting.” He looked at her again, hugged and kissed the babies, and swept out, closing the door behind him. She employed every ounce of strength she had, but the tears came anyway. She sank to the floor, a shower of raisins pelting her. She began to sob in earnest, and the screaming laughter finally, mercifully ceased.

“No ky-ing, my-mee” Sirius said softly, unevenly stroked her hair.

“Wanna cookie?” Ophelia extended a hand full of crumbs and dust, intently staring at her mother. She flung her arms around Hermione’s neck. “Wuv you, my-mee,” she said, pulling out about ten hairs in the process. My-mee. It appeared to be some combination of “mommy” and “’Mione.” She changed the twins into their pajamas and dimmed the lights. They sat on the couch together, conking out during their eighth dose of the Tweenies.

Hermione quickly donned a silky nightie and entered the bedroom. Severus lay awake, reading. He didn’t look up or acknowledge her at all. “Severus?”

“Yes, love?” he asked, still not looking up from his book.

“Would you like to make love?” she asked timidly. Her heart ached for an embrace from her husband, and she could feel her eyes begin to tear before his answer came.

“Do you mind if we don’t? I’ve really got to get some sleep.” He placed an impassive kiss on her forehead, and turned off the light. “Night, love,” he said, rolling over to his side. He feigned sleep almost immediately, trying to figure out how to keep his secret from his young wife. He wanted to just hold her but he didn\'t trust himself to stay silent. He didn\'t notice her silent tears as he lay, pondering his dilemma.