Hilltop Cottage

They had gathered around Minerva’s bed like vultures staring at a carcass, and as Severus stood at the rear of the room, with his back to the wall and his arms folded across his chest, his scowl was firmly in place for anyone who wished to look in his direction.

Where had they been when she was at deaths door? No bloody where. It had been he who had cared for her, visited her daily. He had read to her, and not all of it academic texts. He had given in and recited Robbie Burns, her favourite, not knowing if she had heard him as he spoke but doing so anyway, his smooth, lilting voice caressing the words, like chocolate sauce over quality vanilla ice cream.

He saw Hermione slip in through the door carrying two paper cups of steaming and yet disgusting hospital coffee. Ironic that St Mungo’s had to model itself precisely on its Muggle counterpart, even in catering. She handed him a cup and placed her hand on his arm gently.

‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘They’ll be gone soon.’

Pomona was the first to leave, clutching Minerva still thin frame to her ample bosoms and hugging her tightly, almost suffocating her in the liberally sprayed ‘Lily of the Valley’ perfume that she favoured. Minerva gasped until she was released, and glugged down the glass of water beside her as if it were badly needed Firewhisky. Severus snorted, and the old witch caught his eye with a steely glare. He answered her with a shrug and continued to sulk as the line of visitors trailed away.

Harry was the last to leave, and Hermione followed him out, ostensibly to make sure he really did go. Severus was gratified she hadn’t actually said ‘I’ll leave you both alone,’ but her gaze told him that was her intention all the same.

He stared at her for a short time, until she patted the bedclothes for him to sit beside her. He did so, awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. ‘I’m glad you’re not dead,’ didn’t seem appropriate, somehow. He started when she took his hand in hers. Theirs was never a demonstrative relationship. He could hardly bring himself to meet her gaze, but when he did, she was crying.

‘Severus, I don’t know how to thank you,’ she said hoarsely.

‘You sound like you have a hair ball,’ he said, looking away in embarrassment.

Minerva coughed and took more water. Finally composed, she patted his hand and let go.

‘How is the school?’ she asked more surely.

‘Still standing,’ he murmured. Finally they were on safer ground.

He wouldn’t say that he had missed her steady influence in his life. He wouldn’t say that he cared for her like family and that the thought of losing her had been the only thing that could have persuaded him out of his self-imposed exile – for that was surely what his life had been. He wouldn’t say that he wanted her approval for his relationship with Hermione, and that he hoped she would see Donovan as the grandchild she had never had. He wouldn’t say that he needed her, or that he loved her. None of those things would pass his lips.

He met her eyes again, and the warmth he found there told him that she knew it all anyway.

***

Hermione turned to him in the early hours of the morning, knowing he wasn’t sleeping by the even tone of his breathing. She didn’t speak, but snuggled her face against his chest. Her hand played with the sparse smattering of hair between his navel and his nether regions, before travelling south and cupping his testicles in a tentative gesture.

‘Did you want something?’ he said softly, his voice slightly raspy from his earlier Firewhisky. He had taken one too many, and Hermione knew this was from relief, joyous, overwhelming and exhausted relief.

‘I have everything I could possible want already, Severus. I was wondering what you wanted?’ she whispered, planting small kisses onto his chest and shifting her position to flick his nipple with her tongue lightly.

Severus laughed shortly. ‘A question I have been asking myself all night. I wanted Minerva to be healed, and she is.’

‘So, now what?’ Hermione’s hand was now around his erection, gentle pressure, up and down, her tongue in his navel as his hand buried itself in her curls.

‘Right now, you know what I want. As for the future. I’ll decide in the morning.’

He inhaled sharply as Hermione ran her tongue over his glans softly, and then took his length into her warm, moist mouth. She always thought he tasted delicious, and she swallowed most of him eagerly, sliding herself between his legs and letting his balls rest between her breasts. His legs twitched, and she knew the signs. She pulled away from him with a slurp, and slid herself up his body to his waiting lips. They kissed slowly, tongues languorously playing with each other as his fingers sought her clitoris. She moaned into his mouth, and he started to thrum her with a practiced touch. It wouldn’t take long for her to climax; he was so good at knowing her responses now. He manoeuvred her down onto his cock, and they hissed with shared pleasure as he filled her and she clenched him tightly. She sat up and moved gracefully above him. The covers slipped from her body, and the chink of the rising sunlight highlighted her lush skin and her pert breasts, nipples hard and needy.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he gasped, tracing her breasts with his hands and letting his palms light her desire across her nipples. ‘I love you, Hermione.’

Hermione stopped and stared down into his face. He had never told her that he loved her without her saying it to him first. His eyes met hers gently, a smile gracing his lips. She kissed him softly and he flipped her over, caressing her cheek with his hand as he started to move inside her again. Their eyes locked, and they came together, quietly but with such feeling that Hermione felt her heart would burst from her chest.

***

They lay in each other’s arms and watched the sun rise through the open curtains over the rolling Derbyshire hills. Severus brought Donovan to their bed when he awoke.

As the small family discussed their future, Severus decided exactly what he would do next.