Hello, all!

Now. This story is fluff. Needless fluff. Very little plot. Actually, more like no plot at all. Just my OTP enjoying a quiet day together.

That being said, I like it. I was wary about publishing it because it is short and there is no point to it at all except to be cute. I ended up posting it because writing this took time away from FTOH and I felt like it should have a purpose after all. (Speaking of, I'm on Chapter 32 of FTOH so there will be an update on the 21st of March.


Grey clouds had been forming ominously for at least a day before the rain began to fall. Lightly at first, then breaking into a full fledged storm a few hours before dawn.

Tucked into the warm body of Severus Snape, Hermione Granger opened her eyes to the light patttering against the shutters, then closed them again with a smile after a brief flash of lightening had confirmed that it was indeed a storm outside. She sighed happily, stroking the arm that held her protectively. She loved storms. She loved Severus and she loved peace and she loved the little cottage they shared in the solitude of the summer months away from Hogwarts, eight years safe of the war. That peace was dear to her, and sometimes Hermione suspected that she valued it to a fault.

Sleep was also quite close to her heart, so back to her rest she went, content in the arms of her lover and in the sounds of the rain.

When Hermione woke again, this time it was to Severus pressing warm kisses to her shoulder, his tongue flicking against the freckles there. She made a small noise of happiness, shifting and tilting her head to give him better access to her neck. Not one to disregard such a thing, Severus quickly made full use of the exposure to soft flesh.

At last he reached her jaw and then her cheek and her nose and finally her mouth. He kissed her lightly, pulling away after only a moment.

"Good morning," he said, giving her a rare smile. It was hard to pull any visible sign of joy from the severe man she lived with, but on rainy Sunday mornings in a warm bed it was very possible.

Hermione returned his smile with a brilliant one of her own. "Good morning." Her own voice was still husky from sleep, lower than it usually was.

"Exceptionally so," he murmured, propping himself on one arm so he was slightly above her. "It's raining."

"The storm started last night," Hermione informed him, still grinning lazily. "Supposed to last all day, if the Wireless is right."

They both knew how this day would play out. Another rainy day, another quiet morning of sex then coffee and a lunch of whatever leftovers were in the fridge. An afternoon only disturbed by the sounds of pages turning and potions bubbling and rain on the roof. The buzz of the radiator and maybe a black and white movie if Hermione found one that suited her mood and Severus agreed to watch it with her.

His lips quirked up even farther. "Then we've got nothing but time, I suppose," he drawled. "I don't know what I'm going to do with myself."

"Me, perhaps?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, raising her arms above her head and stretching. Her back made a few quiet pops, which always made him grimace.

"Of course," his voice was silkier now, and the distinctly mischievous gleam was dancing in his eye. "I wouldn't want to neglect you." Now he as properly over her, and a hand traced the length from her hip to her left breast, drawing wide circles that tickled more than anything else.

"Well, you'd best get started because I'm feeling terribly neglected," said Hermione, leaving off with a gasp as the wandering hand finally brushed the small nub that had already hardened in anticipation. He kissed her deeply and sweetly, and she wound her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair.

They didn't get properly dressed until two, once the cups of coffee that Severus had called from the kitchen (stubbornly refusing to leave the warm bed for the cold tile of the kitchen floor) had been emptied and cooled and sent back to the sink.

He was a beautiful thing, her Severus, from the scars that marred his neck to those that puckered his back and the rest of his body. If his features were harsh and his hair greasy his wit was sharp and his tongue... wicked. His hands, too, were lovely, even if they were reaching out to unclasp her bra or pull at the tie of her skirt.

"Stop that," she snapped, only half cross. "Or we'll never make it to the kitchen and I'll expire of hunger." She gave up on proper clothes and just pulled on a dressing gown, imitating Severus, who was now leaning against the wall in his pajama bottoms and dressing gown.

"I wouldn't," Severus said. From his face it appeared that he was entirely serious, but there was a trace of humor in the light of his eyes and the repressed smirk in his voice. "I've plenty of stamina."

Unable to help herself she laughed and reached up to pull his head down. If he was expecting anything more than a brief kiss he was wrong; it was only a moment more before he was in the kitchen and inspecting the contents of the refrigerator.

When she joined him, leaning against the counter, he was still scowling at the fridge. "We don't have much," he informed her shortly. "Olives, the campaign we were saving for next week, and some cheese. Oh, and the leftover ham from last night."

"That can't be all of it," Hermione said, a slight frown coming to her face. She slipped under his arm, tucking herself into his body. He grumbled, but accommodated her. "We have butter, yeast, milk- we have to have flour in the cupboard. I'll make bread."

Severus thought that there was nothing that could remove the memories of the dark days before and during the war better than the sight of Hermione humming to herself as she kneaded the dough she had made from scratch.

In the dark days she had fought along side him and they had won- he had almost died, she had almost died, but they had won. His blood had fallen to the floor of the Shrieking Shack as his neck had burned and outside the green of Harry Potter's eyes he had seen a woman with such sorrow and compassion on her face he had thought he could die in peace.

He hadn't, though. A mediwitch that had treated Arthur Weasley had remembered what had worked and saved him. He had stood trial, had been cleared.

Severus had returned to Hogwarts to teach Potions, because that was all he had ever known. He had thought about opening his own shop, but that would require people who were willing to buy from him rather than Slug and Jigger's or any more of the big competition.

And who would look after his Slytherins if he didn't?

Hermione Granger had come to teach Transfiguration once Minerva had stepped up to Headmistress. She was kind, good to students, even Slytherins. She was also absolutely brilliant and had approached him with a project involving transfiguration of potions ingredients and potions themselves.

And now here they were.

Rain was falling onto their shared roof, this beautiful woman was humming as she rolled out dough, and he got to watch her and rub their old cat behind his ears and relax.

Somehow they ended up making love on the couch and completely ignoring the movie that was playing in the background. (Actually it wasn't 'somehow' it was Severus paying more attention to Hermione's exposed neck than the movie because to be honest it was much more entertaining to have her wiggle in his arms and threaten to get up and move)

She was beautiful when her face was flushed and her hair was in an explosion of curls around her head.

"I'm so lucky to have you," he whispered into her neck as he moved over her.

Hermione made a mewling sound as she clutched at his shoulders. "I love you." She didn't give him time to answer as she kissed him deeply.

It was a beautiful thing to hold this naked woman in his arms and share her heat in a cocoon of blankets and watch her try to finish her movie. The rise and fall of her chest, the warm coffee smell of her body and the softness of her curls and her shape in his arms was something he had craved all his life and finally had. It didn't matter that she was almost twenty years younger than him or that he had been her teacher. It mattered that he loved her and she loved him just as much and that was nearly a miracle for him.

If only he had known that this was his future when he had faced the Dark Lord and offered his arm. Things had seemed hopeless then.

But no more. Now- now he could see the life spread before him and smile. Now he could see teaching during the school year and retreating to this tiny cottage with Hermione in the summer and brewing and reading and adoring the woman who had made his world bright again.

"You're smiling," she said matter-of-factly.

He tried to frown but couldn't. "You're not even facing me."

"I can feel it," she said happily. "You. Are. Happy."

Severus pressed a kiss to the place where her jaw met her neck. "I suppose I am."

The rain intensified around dinner. She read, Crookshanks curled and purring in her lap, as Severus brewed. The sitting room of the cottage was warm despite the cool temperatures outside, warmed by the small fire cackling in the fireplace.

This was their peaceful life. Their quiet life. Their happy life.

When the Wizarding Wireless crackled to life she flicked her wand at it and turned up the volume, eyes flicking over to Severus.

He was looking at her, an expression that said you are very predictable, my dear, on his face. She stuck her tongue out at him. She knew that it was only because he knew her so well.

"I'm reading," she said, voice lofty. I admit nothing.

He smirked. "I'm brewing. Are we listing things that we are doing or things you'd rather not be doing?" I know you and I know that hopeful look in your eyes.

Hermione sighed. "Please?" Fine.

"Two minutes," he answered with a sigh. "Then I can set it to stir itself."

He did as he had told her, and came to scoop her up off the couch and spin her in his arms to the rhythm of the crooning coming from the wireless. The room was dark, the only light coming from the reading lamp Hermione had been using and the lamps near his cauldron. The fire was nearly embers, and not casting nearly as much light as it was giving off warmth.

"You don't have to act so upset just because of dancing," she teased, when she was standing and a grumpy Crookshanks was yowling on the couch alone.

Severus sighed and held her closer. "I have a reputation to uphold," he murmured in her ear. "What would your insufferable friends say if you told them I was pleased to do something as cheerful as dancing?"

"They would probably gag and mime vomiting," Hermione admitted. "But it doesn't matter."

He chuckled, and spun her quickly. "In that case, I'm free to whisper that I adore dancing with you."

She beamed at him. This was her Severus, the one no one else saw. Hers, the happy one that could be cute and grumpy and teasing. "I adore you."

"I know," he said, bending his head so that his beaklike nose touched hers. "And it amazes me every day."

The end of the rain woke Hermione. She smiled softly, then returned to sleep, body molded to the curve of the man behind her.

Another rainy day had come and gone, and it had been glorious.

As I said. Fluff.

Comments are always appreciated. More FTOH will be coming on the 21st of March.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.