Redemption II

Chapter 73

Hermione returned home with renewed confidence. Her talk with Galia brief if enlightening. She was going to do this, she could do this, she wanted to do this. Every small kiss that they had shared had definitely meant something to her body, she knew without a doubt that her heart was ready for more. Her body ached to feel his touch, she could almost sympathize with Ron, almost.

It was a most powerful and mind-disorienting feeling. Perhaps what amazed her the most was that despite everything she had learned about the man whom with she shared her bed he had always been receiving of her touch. Whenever she would take his hand or sit beside him just to feel his strength, he never pulled away from her. It was only when he initiated touch did he seem hesitant and cautious.

Even that morning when he'd touched her back, it was like he was waiting for her to give him permission to touch her. A caring hand was different though. Her mind knew it and so did her heart. He cared for her—there was no question—but did he love her? Hermione's steps slowed as she walked the lonely road leading towards the house she called home. Did she love him?

They were surprisingly more compatible than she would have ever believed them to be. The months they had spent together under Galia's watchful eye had seen that they had very few altercations. They still argued now, but it was more like an academic debate than an actual argument. She had come to learn his little habits and his tells. How meticulous he was with everything he did. How he was nearly obsessed with having a clean kitchen but didn't extend that sort of obsession to the living area.

Hermione had been nearly ready to pull her hair out when he'd double stacked their books instead of just extending the shelf. His system of organization was still foreign to her but he was able to find anything he was looking for without pause. She'd also noticed how the little vein on his temple would pulse when he was becoming frustrated. The way his lip would curl ever so slightly when she would sit beside him, it was hard to see, but it was there.

He was a good man, a kind, patient man. He was everything she didn't even know she wanted. She had a wealth of happy memories of them merely living their lives. Going about their days and eating dinner together. Even the one day in the summer when they'd been turning the soil for next years crops making a massive mud hole in the process. She had been finding dirt in odd places weeks after their battle in the mud and she was sure he had simply thrown away his clothes from that day as there were surely unrepairable. That had been the first day he had laughed, truly laughed. It had been so beautiful to her that she had completely lost the battle.

The memory brought another smile to her face and she pushed open the front door. The house was pleasantly warm compared to the bitter cold that seemed to have befallen their little town. It had snowed only once that season but the sky today looked desperate to release another round. Hermione just hoped that their makeshift greenhouse for Severus' potion herbs would be alright.

"I'm back." Hermione sighed softly pulling the scarf from around her neck. She hadn't bundled up too much as the walk was barely ten minutes from their house to the Inn. Though, she was starting to regret the choice when she looked down at her reddened fingers.

"Welcome back." Severus' voice trailed into the small hallway from the living room and Hermione smiled softly at it. She didn't remember when he'd started to welcome her back, but it was a trend she never wanted to end. She kicked off her boots, switching them out for her house shoes and made her way down into the living area where she found all the other books she'd stashed away in her bag pulled out onto the large coffee table. She harrumphed softly but wasn't truly upset. He had, after all, asked her to pick up a few books he needed for the potions he was making for the town.

"Apologies, I wasn't sure when you would return." Severus glanced up at her from where he was scratching away notes on a spare bit of parchment.

"It's alright, I knew what I was getting into when I moved in with a bibliophile." Hermione chuckled softly leaning down to kiss his cheek. His wide eyes of surprise making her grin wider. "Those aren't library books, by the way, they're all yours. You can write in them if you want to."