Witch Hunt

24

October

That evening found the Dunbeath household sitting in one of the many sitting rooms. It had become their favourite, with the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covering every wall, a wide fireplace lit and roaring, and a stained glass window that painted the room with its vibrant colours when the sun shone just right. 

Hermione was seated comfortably on the loveseat, a book in her hands as she leaned on the armrest, her feet tucked beneath her as she pulled a warm knit blanket over herself. Her daughter was sitting in Snape's lap as he attempted to read to her, his son playing on the thick embroidered rug before the fire. It was a quiet evening like any other, the sort that came with an easy, comfortable silence and the witch sighed happily.  

Her daughter was attempting to gain the Potions' Master's attention by talking to him. Annoyed, he glared at her, snapping his book shut. "How extraordinarily like your mother, you are. She too is troublesome and insufferable with her incessant babbling."

The witch giggled as she eyed him over her book. "Severus, she isn't even 2."

Shifting the child in his lap, he rolled his eyes. "Your point being?" He demanded, knowing the woman would never be able to give him an answer.

Rose fiddled with the jet-carved buttons of his coat and garbled an unclear "Daddy angry," 

The man in black raised a brow at this, his lips lifting slightly. "Well, he is certainly annoyed, little Miss," he said pointedly. "How am I supposed to read to you if you will not cease your noise?"

Hermione blushed hard, setting aside her book and sitting up straight. "No, Rosie, darling. We don't call Severus daddy," she explained quickly, the words blurted out as she fought the tremor in her voice. They had lived with the Snapes for over a year, though she had always insisted that her daughter address the man by his name or his title. She had not wanted to impose anything further on him, knowing full well she had already taken up space in his life. Her daughter was an added challenge, she was a fiery little thing who had taken a liking to the dour Potions' Master.

The man smirked, his eyes gleaming wickedly as they raked over her body slowly from where she sat on the couch. He caught her face with one hand. "At least, you certainly do not, Hermione,"

"Severus!" She gasped, swatting away his hand as she looked back at her daughter's small face.  "We call him Severus or sir. Just like we practiced, alright?"

The man rolled his eyes and stood, kissing the little girl's cheek until she squealed and grabbed his face. "Really, I do not mind. She must have picked it up from Helios. For all intents and purposes, the two believe they are siblings. Let them be, witch." Hermione stared up at him, her face on fire as she attempted to process what had just taken place. She had to admit that she had never been more attracted to him than when he was doting on the children. His face softened, his eyes kind, as he took the time to teach them, to play, to cook, and clean, and tuck them in at night. Gods, he loved them. 

It was a relief to her that he had so willingly accepted her child into his life. Her ex-husband had renounced all parental rights to the baby throughout the divorce proceedings, he had never wanted children and had only agreed due to the forced law. The only reason she had been able to annul their marriage bond at all was due to the dissolution of the law demanding it. Meanwhile, Snape had always wanted a family. The opportunity had never arisen, and so he had never made the plans to have one. To have Hermione Granger and their children fall into his lap was the best thing that could have happened to him after the war, he was sure of it and ever so grateful that it had come to be. 

Hermione shook her head quickly. "But Severus, they are not siblings," she argued, her voice strained. Gods, she had hoped they might one day be. Though, the young witch had respected his grieving and wanted him to take the time he needed to accept them completely. It appeared that the man was already entirely convinced that they were his family. His. Starting with the little witch who gazed up at him with bright cognac eyes filled with fear and hope and.. his heart squeezed love.

She loved him.

When had that happened? He was not able to pinpoint it, the change in the way she looked at him. He was glad for it all the same.

"They could be, could they not?" he said off-handedly, setting down the girl next to his son and running a hand along the boy's head.

The woman stared at him, a hand at her mouth. "I- well, yes, I suppose they could. That would mean..."

"An intimate relationship between their parents?" He interrupted, eyeing her swollen belly. "I believe we have already established that."

She was trapped by his gaze as he kneeled before her, his hand on her pregnant belly. He caught her face with the other and brushed her lower lip with his thumb, pulling her closer. "Severus, honestly..." She mumbled, her face bright pink and warm beneath his fingers.

He kissed her softly. "We could marry. We should have from the start, really."

She let out a squeak, a repressed sob at his words. Her heart was so full, she could hardly make sense of her feelings. "Severus..."

"Hermione," he countered.

She gripped the hand on her face, squeezing his fingers. Her voice was a mere whisper. "Do you mean it?"

The man nodded, his other hand pushing the curls from her face. "Marry me, witch. Give your daughter a proper father."

Tears fell freely from her face as she grinned at him. "You're already her father, Severus. Honest."

He smirked proudly, planting a kiss on her forehead and wiping away her tears. "Then give her my name. Both of you, take my name." He said hurriedly. "I have waited long enough."

She hiccoughed, a wet, noisy sound that she was positive was rather unattractive. "Severus-"

The Potions' Master frowned, his voice firm. "I will not ask again. You must decide."

She was taking too long to answer, she was dawdling and he was losing hope that he had done right in asking. Her second pregnancy had been an unexpected, yet welcome surprise, though he had no idea if she had even wanted that sort of life with him. He had assumed she would since she had never contested their lifestyle, though with everything they had been through together he could not be certain. She had run from him twice already. Would another baby send her away? Would marriage to him frighten her still?

He had no way of knowing.

He had promised to keep out of her thoughts and she had taken up occlumency. To his dismay, she was quite proficient in the skill. Not that he had expected anything less from the brilliant witch. Still, he hated not knowing what she was thinking. Having to trust that she was being honest, even as she avoided discussing heavy topics.

Hermione caught his face, pulling him in for a searing kiss. She had practically thrown herself at him, pushing him over as she fell over him giggling. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you," she said between kisses as she peppered his face with them. "A thousand times yes!"

Snape openly laughed, his arms suddenly full of witch as he accepted her smooching. He caught her chin deftly, leading her mouth to his and kissing her deeply, slowly. He flipped her onto her back as he hovered above her and brushed his lips across her jawbone. His voice was a rumble of velvet and sin chasing shivers across her skin. "About damn time."