"You bitch. I hate you! Because of you, my brother is in Azkaban! You're a piece of fucking scum, and you deserve to bloody die!" Ginny Weasley yelled and screamed at Hermione, who was staring emotionlessly at her. "Do you not even care what you've done? You've gotten him a life sentence in the worst prison in the world! You don't even give a fuck! He didn't even do anything!" The anger was building inside of Hermione. It was building stronger and stronger, burning hotter and hotter until she exploded.

"How dare you! How DARE you! You have no bloody clue what really happened, so before you go and blame others for your problems, you need to get the real story first! You have no right to come to my quarters and yell at me like some sort of uncivilized miscreant! Before you go and assume things, you need to understand what really happened! Now GET OUT!" Hermione pushed the red-headed girl out of her rooms and slammed the door in her face, locking it with a very difficult locking spell.

"What's going on?" Severus asked her, running out of the bathroom in only a towel, offering her a mouth-watering sight.

"Er… just um… it was just Ginny…." She told him, all the while staring at his abs and arms. He eventually realized what she was staring at, and smirked, feeling a bit more confident about himself than before.

"Hm. Well, I need to go and get changed before I catch my death in these dungeons. Then, you're going to get something to eat; it's lunchtime, you know." Hermione rolled her eyes, but went to sit down at the table anyways. A minute later, Severus emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a dark grey button down and black trousers.

"What do you want to eat?" He asked her, setting the table. She shrugged her shoulders.

"I dunno." She told him. He sighed and began cooking grilled chicken and a fresh salad. When the chicken was finished, he pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Chardonnay. Pouring both glasses three- quarters full, he then put a reasonable amount of salad on two plates, slicing up chicken and putting it on top of the salad. Then, placing the drinks on the table and food in front of her and where he sat, they began to eat. He with couth, and her with sensibility. They both went together so well, that it was almost a match made in heaven. Well, that is, it would be if either one of them believed in god anymore.

"Thank you, Severus. This was a wonderful lunch." She told him, getting up with him to clean the table and wash the dishes. They caught each other's eyes and smiled softly. Wiping his hands dry on a towel, he pressed his forehead against hers, gently walking her back until she hit the wall. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed his lips, firmly pressing herself against his body, making him hiss in pleasure. She could feel the effect that she was having on him pressing against her lower stomach.

Severus picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, taking her back to their bedroom and setting her down on the bed. Hermione stared into his eyes, marvelling at the beauty inside of his perfect, black orbs and began unbuttoning his grey shirt, deftly shoving it off of his body and running her fingers up and down his pale, chiselled chest.

"Hermione..." He sighed, tugging her closer to him, needing to feel her warmth against him. She quickly discarded her t-shirt and knee-length flowing skirt, glad that she shaved her legs that morning. Severus pressed his prominent erection into her panty-covered core, feeling just how wet she still was, and relished in the fact that he made her gasp the way she did.

He entered her, although slowly, no matter how much she begged him to go faster. He wanted to enjoy the time they had together. He wanted to make love to her, not fuck her. He wasn't going to screw her into the bed, he was going to worship her body, and somehow, Hermione understood what he was doing. Slowly, slowly, they reached their peaks together, he grunting, her sighing, both in love with each other.

"We should probably get up and eat." Severus said tiredly.

"No. I'm sleepy, and I know that you are, too." Hermione told him, yawning while she did so. Severus smirked and shook his head slightly.

"We do need to eat dinner, love." He told her, summoning his wand and dressing the both of them.

"But I don't feel like it." Hermione complained slightly, burying her face in her lover's chest and refusing to get up, ending up in him sighing and picking her up to carry her into the kitchen, even though neither one of them were particularly hungry. Severus sat her down in a chair and began making noodles with a slightly spicy sauce to cover it. Pouring water with a slice of lime on the rim of the glass, he kept a careful watch on the pot of boiling noodles, making sure that it wouldn't boil over and make a mess; it didn't. Taking out a colander, he strained the pasta and gave each of them an equal amount of food with a plentiful amount of sauce on the top.

"Here you go, love." He said, sitting down with her after getting the both of them their water, and began to eat with her. Eventually, they were both full, and began to wash the dishes, both of them wondering what it would be like if they were married and doing it. Would it feel different? Or the same? Would there be a child playing happily in the room over, or would there even be a child?

Soon, the dishes were done, and Severus told Hermione to pick out a movie for them to watch, all the while nuzzling her shoulder and neck. Giggling, she picked out a movie without really seeing what she was watching. Surprisingly, it turned out to be a horror movie; The Exorcist. Naturally. Nonetheless, they still watched it, Hermione hiding her face in Severus's chest a couple of times while he began cracking up at the "fakeness" of the movie effects, while she playfully slapped his chest.

"Don't make jest! The movie is one of the most disturbing I've ever seen!" She scolded him when the girl began screaming and her head started spinning around. "That's not fucking normal, Severus!" Hermione screamed, as she jumped so much from the sheer terror that she felt, that she ended up halfway on his lap, which he-and his friend- didn't seem to mind all that much, given the fact that her skirt had ridden up to her waist during her little screaming fit, exposing her lovely, black lace knickers. Severus liked the colour black. And lace. Especially combined and describing Hermione's underwear.

"Um… are you staring at my knickers?" Hermione asked, while Severus quickly averted his gaze to the nearly deformed girl on the screen.

"I have no clue what you're talking about, love." He said, feigning innocence while she half-heartedly smacked his head, causing him to growl softly at her, tackling her to the ground and smothering her with kisses, making her giggle as she pulled her face away to breathe. She growled at one point when he started nibbling on her pulse-point.

"Those marks just went away yesterday, Severus. I'll- I'll- I'll do something to you if you make anymore," she threatened him, finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on keeping his teeth away from her neck when he touched her in places that made her blush with embarrassment at the fact that she was aroused by what he was doing.

"Who cares? You're mine. Only mine, and everybody will know that." He snarled in her ear, making sure to nibble her hard enough to leave a mark-or five- but not hard enough to break the skin like he found he did last time. She sighed, burying her fingers in his long hair and deciding whether to pull his face closer to her throat, or to push him away. In a strange way, she actually liked having a physical reminder of who she belonged to, but it also seemed so… dirty, almost? Was she sick, for liking something so wrong? Perhaps she was, but at least she wasn't into anything too… um… erotic. Like… BDSM? No, she was terrified of it, but it's been rumoured that Severus liked it, although, she couldn't see it; he just wasn't like that.

"You're thinking so hard that I can almost hear you." His voice rumbled against his chest, making Hermione blush. She sure hoped he couldn't hear what she was thinking!

"Er… well, sorry." She mumbled, looking down at her feet. He smirked.

"You seem embarrassed, love." He teased her, grinning when she mock-glared at him.

"Shut up! I am not!" She insisted, knowing that that definitely wasn't the truth. "I'm not!" She said for good measure, knowing that Severus didn't believe her for one bit, hence his smug facial expression.

"Whatever you say, love." He said, kissing her nose and turning back to the movie that Hermione didn't seem to enjoy very much. He tackled her, making her squeal.

"Dammit, Severus!"

Sometimes, he drove her crazy. Sometimes he made her mad with want. Sometimes he made her giddy with love. And other times, he was just himself; a cocky, arrogant bastard. And yet, she didn't really care. She still loved him.

She couldn't have a child. They were thinking about adopting a child, probably an older one with magic.

Severus smiled and kissed his wife on the forehead.

"She's perfect, love." He whispered in her ear, making her grin.

"Yes, perfect indeed." She responded. The girl in question was a twelve-year old girl with long black hair and green eyes. She had pale skin, freckles lightly sprinkled across her nose and cheeks, and a interesting talent. Anyone whom she saw more than once, she'd be able to draw them in graphic detail.

Severus and Hermione found that out when they found drawings of not only them, but Harry and Draco, as well as some of the children from her Primary school. They were astonished and immediately got her into lessons with a professional artist, who seemed to care a lot for the girl. He was Harry and Draco's son, Scorpius. He was nineteen.

Severus tried to kill Scorpius because Scorpius was trying to kiss Cassandra, Hermione and Severus's daughter. She was only fourteen. He was twenty-one.

Then, Hermione reminded her fuming husband how much older he was than her, which made him calm down a bit, and listen to Scorpius's pleas for him to wait until his daughter was of age. Severus agreed, but was still a little pissed when his daughter was of age, and immediately began dating Scorpius, although he was happy for his little girl.

Soon, he happened to be marching her down the aisle, handing her over to her fiancé, who happened to be Scorpius. Severus really wanted to hurt the little prick, but his daughter loved him, and probably wouldn't ever speak to him again if he murdered her future husband.

Hermione was clapping for her daughter when they kissed, joining together as husband and wife forever. She wrapped her arms around her scowling husband, unfolded his arms for him, and hugged him tightly.

It was late at night when they came. The sons and daughters of the old Death Eaters. She knew that she should have been more prepared for the killing curse, but she wasn't. It hit her, killing her instantly. Her husband jumped up and roared with anger, taking down more than five people before being killed much less kindly than his wife.

Even in death, they argued like no other.

"Well, that was a stupid thing to do!"

"I honestly think that I did it out of bravery!"

"You Gryffindors confuse bravery with stupidity!"

"Oh, go fuck yourself!"

"I'd rather you do it for me."

No one really cared how much they argued, they just cared how much Personal Displays of Affection they showed each other.

Sometimes, she really missed her daughter. She wondered if she was okay and happy with her husband. Sometimes, she checked in on them, and was satisfied with what she saw.

She saw a loving husband, two little children, and a wife, pregnant with another child.

She was proud of her daughter and what she'd become, although she did want to meet her grandchildren, life really just doesn't work that way.

She felt arms wrap around her, and knew who it was; Severus. She leaned back and kissed him, smiling. She was lucky to have him with her.

They both had horrible lives, so perhaps that was why they got to be happy around the second half and after part of it? They didn't really care, they were just happy that they found someone whom they could open up to and confide in their life. Now, they had each other in death, and it was lovely. They were the luckiest people ever.