Another fic finished... Woot!

Hermione stretched her bare arms above her head and let out a long groan…and since it was still early –the sun not yet fully clearing the horizon— she snuggled back into the soft plumpness of her pillows.

She was alone in the wide bed. Off somewhere else in the hotel suite the shower ran. And there was singing. Definitely singing. Though Severus denied it. Utterly. Completely…

Grinning to herself, she wriggled down into smooth, warm sheets and the let the cool breezes tangle with her messy hair. Severus had opened the windows to the wide Rio Douro again, the lights of Corredoura and Areinho still flickering against the remains of the darkness.

They'd been in Portugal for a week. A rushed wedding present from her parents, when her mother had heard them planning a trip to Porto. Hermione had tried to say no…and Severus hadn't said a word. Was silent. Blank faced. A muscle jumped in his tight jaw though. A constant little tick. And then Hermione realised she was trying to refuse the first true, honest gift he'd ever received…

So she'd grabbed the booking sheets, thrust them into his hands, linked arms with him and declared it wonderful. Severus gave one of his elegant nods to her parents, but his fingers, his fingers were white as he clutched the papers. It was beautiful and heartbreaking.

And the first day, they'd fulfilled their fantasy: meeting on the ridiculously ornate staircase of the Livraria Chardron. Though she'd not been coolly polite as she'd promised. No, she'd stepped up to him and snaked her fingers up between the carved buttons of his frockcoat, until she traced a path to his mouth.

He'd kissed her fingertip and her chest tightened. All that he'd done for her. For her family… Merlin, she loved him. "Let's buy some books, then let me whisk you off so I can have my wicked why with you, Headmaster Snape."

"Miss Granger…" His delicious voice was a low rumble, silken, dark and her eyes almost fluttered shut under its power. "Are you propositioning me?"

She stretched up onto her toes and teased a kiss across his parted mouth. "I'm offering to fuck you, Headmaster." Her teeth grazed his bottom lip. "Thoroughly and completely." She smirked. "Do you I think that warrants a rather severe detention?"

Severus growled at her. Actually growled…and apparated them both to their hotel room, the crack of the spell like a boom of distant thunder…

From her rumpled bed, Hermione looked to the chest —packed to the rim with books— that sat under one of the open windows. They'd had to go back for the books. Twice. Kissing on the stairs was addictive… The shop staff were not amused.

Severus appeared in the wide archway that separated the suite from the bathroom. He scrubbed a towel over his head and a white towel was slung low on his lean hips. Her fingers itched to reach for her wand. A little flick and that precarious towel would simply drop away…

"Madam Snape." Severus tossed the hand towel to a convenient chair. "I am twice your age and I saw to your…voracious needs through the night." He lifted an eyebrow, even as his dark eyes sparked with amusement. "Allow a wizard a modicum of rest and relief."

Hermione pouted and her shoulders slumped. "What is the point of keeping a wizard if you have to pleasure yourself?"

Severus snorted, but a sliver of heat burned in him. "That I would enjoy." She gave him a mock glare. "So what are the plans for today?"

"Well, as you're too old and infirm to spend the day in bed—" Hermione shrieked as a still-damp Severus Snape pounced on her, tangling her in the sheets, until he had her pinned to the bed. She fixed another glare on him. "I thought you were too old…"

His black eyes narrowed on her. "Really…?"

He wrapped the question in sin, knowing how his voice worked on her flesh, on her need for him—

—just as an owl surged into the room and crashed into a pillow.

Severus swore, causing the panicked bird to flap and bark. Hermione fixed him with dark look, before she reached out to stroke the large owl's ruffled feathers and murmured nonsense words to soothe its strained nerves.

Calmed, it offered its leg, she unclipped the shrunken bundle and with a last, baleful glare at Severus, it launched itself from the bed and soared out of the open window.

Severus grumbled and reached for his wand. A quick cleaning spell later and he flopped down onto the wide bed. He lifted an eyebrow at the sheaves of parchment and a copy of the Prophet she'd resized. "What does he say?" He smirked at her surprised look. "I'd recognise Mr Potter's amoebic scrawl anywhere, Miss Granger."

Hermione huffed at the insult and turned back to the letter.

Dear Hermione

This letter comes to you in a series of tasks.

Her stomach dropped and for a moment, she closed her eyes. What had he done now?

You're giving this letter that look, aren't you? Everything is fine. It's all fine. Just…odd. Sort of.

Anyway, I took your advice concerning a mutual Slytherin acquaintance. And not the one you chat and hold hands with. Because that is all you do, and nothing will convince me otherwise!

I'm rambling.

I was completely Gryffindor about it all. Blundering about in my invisibility cloak in Diagon Alley, tailing him…until he disappeared down a dark little nook. I had to follow. And me, famed wizard, a great Auror-to-be (can you hear the heavy sarcasm?) was cornered, with a wand at my throat in a heartbeat.

Fuck, my Draco is fast with a wand!

Hermione grinned. His Draco. Her heart did a little flutter.

He yanked the cloak from my face and just stared. Gobsmacked. And this is where yet more of my Hogwarts' House came into play. I kissed him.

Gods, Hermione. He's…

He's my soul-mate.

Hermione slapped her hand to her mouth and happy tears pricked at her eyes.

"Hermione…?"

Severus' voice, sharp with worry, broke into her happy little bubble of joy. He snatched the letter from her lax fingers.

"Hey, I hadn't finished reading…"

His laughter made her stare. "Draco and Potter." He sank back into his pillows, a smirk still lifting his mouth. "Well, that explains the obsession with each other the two have shared down through the years." He waved the parchment sheaf back at her. "Finish it, if you must."

She tugged it from his fingers.

I feel whole, Hermione. For the first time in forever. It's… He's…

Of course we play quidditch. That's all we do. Just the way that you and Snape, Headmaster Snape discuss potions and charms and whatever else. Nothing more than that. Nope. You and he… Handholding. Always handholding.

Hermione snorted…but then it struck her. Harry and Draco had completed the bond. "Merlin, they're married…"

I am happy, Hermione. Ecstatically happy.

And now for the fun bit. I —well, Draco. Have I mentioned how good he is with a wand?— charmed the enclosed copy of the Prophet. There's a section about you. Not…complementary, but it's Skeeter. Then there's the bit about me and Draco. Again, sort of.

Have fun!

See you soonish. I may be busy…quidditching.

Love, Harry.

"What does the Prophet have to delight us with, then?"

Severus lifted his arm and Hermione snuggled into him. For a moment, she thanked whatever destiny had brought them together. He'd known she'd want just that little bit of comfort, the long touch of skin on skin to ease the stress of what they would find in the benighted paper.

She frowned at the copy she opened out. It was mostly blank. She flicked through the pages, until, on page nine, she found a simple headline and short, following piece.

Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Marry

Headmaster, Severus Snape, PM, OoM:1, married muggle-born witch, Hermione Granger, OoM:1 in a suspiciously secret ceremony last week. The couple have declined to comment on their nuptials.

Many wizards are disappointed at this news. Pluvius Deems, noted Wizengamot member, summed up the feelings of a number of those aggrieved.

"I offered to help. As any upstanding wizard would do. Has done. I know that I, and the august members of the Wizengamot, were all prepared to aid this young witch in her time of crisis. With nothing more than offering our goodwill to keep her safe. Merlin, we already had a rota. All that planning, wasted.

"And did I receive a reply? A thank you? No.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must away to St Mungo's. I have this rather uncomfortable rash…"

The Daily Prophet wishes the new couple well.

Hermione blinked. A rota! Her pulse drummed, anger tightening her chest. They'd set up a rota to…to fuck her. Bastards.

"We are safe from them." Severus' voice was a warm, smooth comfort in her ear. He kissed her temple. "And I should imagine that St Mungo's is quite busy at the minute, what with all those wizards who –coincidently— owled you, finding themselves rather…discomforted."

"You…?" Hermione threw down the newspaper onto the bed and turned in his arms. She held his black eyes, gloried in the satisfied smirk on his so-very-kissable lips. "You are the sweetest man."

His smirk grew. "I am, aren't I?" He squeezed her behind and she gave a squeak. "Now, finish this blasted game of Potter's, so we can get back to…discussing potions and charms."

"And handholding."

He teased a slow kiss and she sighed against him. "Oh, especially the handholding."

Wriggling free, Hermione summoned the creased paper, finding the pages full now, every section packed. The front headline screamed at her and her mouth fell open. "Oh gods…"

Ronald Weasley Proposes Again!

The Minister of Magic's son, Ronald Weasley, seems to have no luck in the realms of love.

First, his proposal to his friend's former girlfriend, Hermione Granger, resulted in him suffering under a soul-mate's curse. And now, as he searches to heal that gaping wound with another love, calamity has struck!

We caught up with Mr Weasley at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He was naturally broken-hearted that another love had escaped him.

"Look, it was a joke, right? Harry (Potter) said he'd found someone. Fallen in love. And I was happy for him. Of course, I was. I mean, I thought him and Ginny had finally sorted things out. I mean…

"Anyway, I asked him. And he said it wasn't Ginny. But I mean it couldn't be worse than the one Mione (Hermione Granger) got herself lumped with, could it? And then he said he was in love with Malfoy. Malfoy! Bloody Malfoy.

"So I said —as a joke. A joke, understand- 'Look, mate, you don't have to go that far. I'll marry you. Right now. What d'you say?'

"Well, I was just… What are the chances that the two people I grew up with, defeated Voldemort with, would both have soul-mates?"

We are told by his healers that Mr Weasley is "out of sorts" at the second soul-mate curse to have struck him in under a month.

Severus broke out into an honest-to-Merlin belly laugh. Hermione pressed her hand to her face to deny the snorting laughter that ached to break free. "Oh, poor Ron."

"Poor Ron, my arse!" He groaned, wiped his face and let out a long, long breath. "I think Mr Weasley will never marry. Ever."

"No. He won't dare ask."

She shook her head. What were the chances? But the strain of war had made their lives —and their love lives— difficult. Without…destiny, would either she or Harry found happiness? Hermione had never, ever been happier to be a witch. Magic was on her side. And had given her a wizard she would love possibly for several lifetimes…

She snuggled into his chest, her head ducking under his chin. "I'm happy I am though."

Severus pressed a kiss to his hair. "Good." But his hand and sneaky fingers were on the move, tracing a path to her breast. "Now, Madam Snape." He plucked the newspaper from her fingers and vanished it with a wandless spell. "There was talk of potions…"

He rolled her onto her back, pinning her arms above her head and nuzzled against her neck. She couldn't fight the moan, or the turn and twist of her body against his clever touch. In their short marriage, Severus had already mapped every inch of her skin. He was very thorough.

He stretched out against her, his lithe, strong body hot over hers. Releasing her wrists, he held her too him a soft moan escaping. His teeth caught her lip, before a slow kiss consumed her. Black eyes burned into hers.

"And a discussion concerning charms…"

Hermione fought to think, to breathe. The man melted her with a look. "Handholding. There's handholding, too."

"Yes…" His voice was a low rumble as his knuckles teased against her flesh, the familiar ache, the need for him always there. Always wanted. He groaned as he eased in, hard and hot...and right, Hermione lifting her hips up to meet him.

His smirk was dark and wicked. "Have I mentioned how much I adore handholding?"

Hermione pulled his head down, her fingers caught in his wet hair and her lips brushing his as she met the slow, delicious rhythm of his hips. He was hers. Matched her in everyway she needed and wanted. Even down to her sense of humour. It was perfect.

"You're such an…excellent hand holder, dearest…"

He frowned. "Dearest?"

Hermione fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Sweetiecakes…?"

Severus growled at her, lines pinching around his eyes. "I think that insult deserves something very special, don't you, Miss Granger…?"

He thrust into her, fierce and deep and Hermione grabbed at him, held on as he rode her, as he fucked her so beautifully, beautifully hard. Her soul-mate. Her perfect wizard.

And under such delights, the morning vanished.

Let me know what you think! :)