Daddy Dearest II

The History

Rather than arrive home at nine o'clock as he said, Snape let Hermione stew until nine-thirty. Throughout the day, his mind continuously turned to his wife who would be waiting at home for him. The hours couldn't pass fast enough.

He'd missed Hermione. Missed her welcoming arms, the comfort of her body, and the feel of her beside him in the night. Make no mistake, the Potions master loved his wife very much, it's just that in all their years of marriage, he had never once been able to leave "The Couch" without making concessions and having to wait for Hermione to give him permission to re-enter their marriage bed.

Despite having overwhelmed her with his passion and desire for her years ago, Hermione proved to be no little pushover, but rather manipulative in her own right. Once she discovered she could eject him from the bedroom, it became her main method of getting him to kowtow to her wishes. Despite his darkness, Severus Snape really needed her closeness. She truly was his only weakness.

Initially, he put up a grand fight, stoically lying on the couch night after night, refusing to give an inch, sometimes for as long as three weeks before he folded. But that would be too long in Hermione's estimation, and she began to use unfair methods to break him. Those unfair methods usually being eating phallic foods, wearing sexy lingerie and bending all over the place in front of him as he attempted to sleep, or eat, or work, showing cleavage, soft, round buttocks and thick, shapely thighs, advertising what he couldn't have. She'd even talk in that sexy timbre she had when they were intimate, swearing she wasn't doing it when he complained she was tormenting him.

It was hell for Severus, pure hell. He knuckled under every time, feeling like a weak, pussy-whipped husband. Of course, he'd ride her like a jockey into the home stretch once he got his hands on her, but by the time Hermione toppled him, she was ready for a bit of rough riding. She was quite a passionate little witch and from the first night, Snape knew he had found the right woman. Brilliant, loyal, pretty and a lioness between the sheets. He was hooked from the very beginning.

It had been a rather long dance for the two, one that spanned eight years. Hermione and Ron went their separate ways because they couldn't agree on their future together. Hermione only wanted one or two children and to wait until at least she was twenty-five to have them, but Ron wanted five or six children and wanted to get started immediately. Hermione told him he didn't make enough money to support that many children, and Ron's response was his father didn't make that much either, but he still managed.

The argument became nasty, with Hermione stating that he managed at the cost of Mrs. Weasley becoming a stay-at-home mum and making clothes by hand or wand rather, and stretching every sickle until it screamed. She didn't want that kind of life for herself, which prompted Ron to ask her if she thought she was better than his mum.

"Not better, Ron. Just different," she replied, trying to make him understand.

But Ron didn't understand. He thought his mum was the greatest thing since treacle tarts and told Hermione she could learn a lot about being a "proper" witch from her.

"What do you mean, a proper witch?" she asked him, her brown eyes glittering.

"One that can take care of a home and family, who doesn't run about showing off her brains and taking jobs from wizards," he spat at her.

"Taking jobs from who?" Hermione snarled.

Hermione had a better job than Ron, which paid more as well, and it irked him somewhat. She was the first witch to ever get such a position in the Ministry. It had been occupied by males up until the point she was hired. It was a first, and instead of celebrating it, Ron had been rather put out by it.

Needless to say, the differences were irreconcilable. Ron ended up marrying Lavender Brown and having a brood of Weasleys. Hermione never regretted her decision, although for years she didn't seriously take up with another wizard. She dated . . . got laid on occasion, but that was the extent of it.

But the eight year dance between she and Snape was a rather interesting one. They only came together once a year, on May second; to celebrate Voldemort's demise at a premiere, invitation-only party that was thrown for the heavy hitters in his downfall by the Minister of Magic. It was quite a formal affair and each year, Snape and Hermione would have one dance. One very magical dance, where he would ask her how her life was going.

And Hermione would tell him almost everything, but it was what she wasn't telling him that he paid attention to. How alone she was. She never spoke of beaus or lovers, or budding romances, but work, work, work. His response to her was always the same:

"Isn't there more to life than simply work, Miss Granger?"

Hermione would snort and reply, "That's rich coming from you."

To which he would say, "Unlike you, I have no one who would have me."

Then they continued the dance. He would hold her close and there was always tension between them, a kind of clinging that ended too soon, and they would depart, both feeling that the other should have said something more.

One night, Snape danced her away into a corner and told her he needed to do something he'd been thinking about for years. Then he kissed her and it was electric, a whirl of longing and emotion and need washing over the both of them.

The rest? The rest was history. They married shortly afterwards, Snape wanting to secure her for his own. But he soon discovered Hermione was no pushover and no doormat. She was set in her ways just as he was, and concessions had to be made. At first, Snape was the tough one, but as he settled into his role of husband and father, of course he grew soft.

Love made a man soft. At least for those he loved. To the rest of the world Snape was as cold and as snarky as ever, but to Hermione and Jaden, he was for the most part kind and loving, returning what they gave him without reserve. Up until this point, both of his women could wrap him around their little fingers like string.

Too bad Jaden couldn't have stayed a little girl forever. Now, she had to walk among the wolves, not one seeing how precious she was . . . what a jewel she was. And that was how Snape felt, that there were those waiting to devour her innocence and possibly break her heart. Youthful romances rarely lasted. She could give a wizard her heart, and her body and months later it could be over between them, and the pain would set in.

He didn't want that for Jaden. He wanted her to find someone who was stable and true. Someone strong and able to look out for her, who would protect and cherish her with as much love as he did.

But Jaden didn't want another father, and that's what Snape didn't understand. And growing pains were a part of growing up, lessons about life learned from the pain as well as the joy. No one could keep another person from pain, no matter how good the motivation. Indeed, they could cause pain themselves without ever intending to do so, just by their meddling.

Severus Snape still had a lot to learn about being a father. He didn't mean to act an idiot, to be so manipulative and calculating, but he fell back into "spy mode" once Jaden and Hermione tried to lock him out. He felt he had a right to some say about Jaden's social activities and the boys who were attracted to her. The opposition he met forced him to go underground, to resort to old, familiar methods of coercion and manipulation. Perhaps if Jaden and Hermione tried to be more understanding of his position, he wouldn't have resorted to this, but they said he was being over-protective, over-bearing and just needed to butt out.

He would never "butt out" of anything concerning his family, no matter how they felt about it. When Jaden began to be sneaky and uncommunicative, that was the rock that broke the Thestral's back. There was a time she would talk to her father about everything, but now that she was becoming a woman, it was time for womanly secrets. Dad was odd man out. Hermione was the one she went to now, and if her father dared to ask her anything about her social life, she felt he was being nosey, and it showed.

Life was never easy, was it?

Snape arrived home with a clap of thunder, and immediately walked into his bedroom to find Hermione waiting for him under the sheets. He looked down at his wife, the silk covers outlining every curve.

"You're late, Severus," Hermione said softly as he began to undress methodically.

"I believe I'm right on time, wife," he purred at her as his pale fingers flew down the front of his robes.

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A/N: Another little short lead-in to the night. Thanks for reading.