After The War

**Just a short chapter to assure you guys that your worst fear isn't true...it wasn't a dream! More is to come dears**

His eyes flickered to life for a moment and he reached out. There was nothing but air, he kept reaching only to realize seconds later that his hand was clasping a small piece of parchment that sat where she should have been. His eyes shot open and his heart sunk to his knees. A dear John letter, detailing how she'd made a mistake and had gone off to live with someone who wouldn't lure her into an ill fated romance, or at least that's what he thought. His heart fluttered back up to it's natural location as he read her tidy script.

Severus,

I've gone to Diagon Alley to fetch some more potion ingrediants as I noticed you were getting short on supplies. I should be home in time to cook dinner, I've left a sandwich in the kitchen for your lunch.

Love,

Hermione XOXOXO

A smile tickled the corners of his lips and he laid his head back down on her pillow, feeling more at ease. It smelled like her hair, lavender and honeydew. He breathed it in, the final thought that life would never be the same sinking into his mind as he fell back into a blissful sleep.

Diagon Alley was crowded more than ever. With the demise of the Dark Lord people began to feel safe enough to come out of their houses and go about their business as usual. Hermione was just leaving the apothecary when she bumped into an old witch wearing a large hat with a stuffed vulture perched awkwardly atop it.

"Hermione Granger," the woman said at the top of her voice. Many people turned to look as Hermione's name had become just as famous as Harry Potter. "I've been meaning to come around to look in on you," she said politely. "I'm Mrs. Longbottom, Neville's grandmother of course."

Hermione smiled and gave her condolences over the loss of Neville. Mrs. Longbottom smiled woefully and thanked her. "I hear you've gone to live with Severus Snape, something I don't quite understand. I would've taken you in myself dear, it would have been an honour to have you under my roof," the frumpy old woman spat. "You shouldn't have to put up with such a grumpy old fellow. You should be out and about living life like a young person should, what with all the terrible things that have happened to you."

Hermione very much wanted to rise to Severus' defense but thought better of it. She merely smiled and thanked Mrs. Longbottom again for her kindness before explaining that she was in quite a hurry. Mrs. Longbottom looked a bit put out but nodded and shook Hermiones hand feverishly before letting her go about her business. The stares and whispers followed Hermione all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron where she disapparated.

"What kept you," came a lazy half asleep voice from the easy chair next to the fireplace when Hermione entered the house. Severus was sitting by the fire, a book open on his lap and a twinkle in his eye.

"Mrs. Longbottom," Hermione said with a great sigh. She deposited the bags on the floor near the doorway. "She was going on about how she would have taken me in and how I shouldn't have to put up with a grumpy git such as yourself."

He gave a rougish sort of smile. "Called me a grumpy git did she? Well she's no summer peach I assure you." He placed the book on the coffee table and replaced it with a steaming cup of tea. "I recall a little meeting I had with her in Neville's third year. I wanted to speak to her about his abismal potions skills. She called me a slimy bastard and told me that I was half the wizard her son was before I had Filch escort her from my office."

Hermione gave a muted laugh and collapsed into an adjacent armchair. She still felt a bit uncomfortable in his presence after what had happened that morning. She had been worried that he'd completely ignore her presence or try to pretend as though it didn't happen. Maybe he thought it was a mistake. She hadn't even entertained the idea that he may very well be feeling that some discomfort.

"Tea?" he conjured another cup onto the coffee table. She took it with a nod. "Umm...Severus..." her cheeks were turning a dark shade of pink.

"Yes," he muttered, returning to his book.

"I wanted to talk to you about...well...about this morning you know." She was looking very uncomfortable, staring into her tea cup instead of looking into his face.

The fimilar feeling of his heart sinking fluttered back into Severus Snape's body. Was she about to reveal his worst fear? He didn't think he could bare to hear her telling him how she'd made a mistake and how he was much too old for her and that she was going to live with old Mrs. Longbottom. He had a sudden urge to get as far away as possible before she could break his heart, but he sat like stone, he was completely unable to move.

"I...I just don't want you to think that it was meaningless," she continued. Severus felt movement come back to his body and he breathed again. "I do have feelings for you, I mean, I don't know what it all means but I do care for you." Her eyes were downcast and she seemed to be very interested in the intricate pattern on her teacup.

Severus got to his feet, feeling slightly better. Her sad demeanor had the usual effect, making him wish to hold her and comfort her. He sat down on the arm of her chair and put his arm around her shoulders. He put a finger nder her chin and tilted her head toward shim. Their eyes met and he saw the shimmer of tears forming. He kissed her cheek very tenderly. "I care for you too Hermione," he whispered.

She cuddled into the crook of his arm. Though a single tear had dripped toward her nose, she was smiling. She thought about what Ron and Harry would say if they had lived to see this. Their Hermione was cuddled up to Professor Snape after they'd just confessed their heart felt emotin for each other. It brought a laugh to her lips as she imagined Harry's goggling eyes and Ron's gaping mouth. They wouldn't have believed it possible, and until now, neither would she.

Night fell on the sleepy little cottage. It's occupants were sitting in the living room near the fire. Autumn had brought cold air and the fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Severus was in his favorite armchair, another book on his lap. Hermione was leaning against his leg with Romeo and Julliet propped open on her knee.

"I always thought it was odd that Juliet was French and Romeo was Italian. Was Shakespeare making a political statement?" Severus asked. "I don't regularly look into muggle affairs, do the French dislike the Italians?"

Hermione laughed. "I'm not sure, that was before my time."

"Before mine as well," he muttered. "How old do you think I am?"

Hermione had never thought about it really. She knew that wizards lived longer lives and aged less rapidly than muggles. She had never even guessed at Severus' age, it had never meant much before now.

After a moment's silence he tutted, "I'll give you a clue. I was 36 during your first year. You can do the math."

She did the math on her fingers. "You're 48?"

He nodded. "I'll be 49 in two weeks. My birthday is October 29th," he said matter of factly.

She wouldn't have believed it. He didn't look a day over 35 and his body surely hadn't suffered the ills of aging. She silently praised the magical blood that ran through both of their veins. "Wasn't Dumbledore 172 when he died?" she asked.

"No, he was 174 actually," Severus responded. "But Hermione, don't you think I'm a bit older than you? I mean, when you're 40 I'll be 67, doesn't that bother you?" He was still worried that age was a factor, even after she'd told him how she felt.

"Of course not," she responded immediately. "You don't look a day over 35 and I wouldn't care if you did. It's not your looks I fancy, though they aren't bad at all." She kissed him lightly on the lips.