MEET ME IN THE ORCHARD IN AN HOUR FOR A RUN.

He wasn't sure she was going to be able to get away. He'd confirmed she was all right. Moody was the only casualty besides Hedwig. Evidently Potter was taking the loss of his owl rather poorly.

Severus had snorted at that revelation.

Other than that, the only damage had been done by him sadly. His Sectumsempra had taken George's ear. He'd known she was among the seven Potter's, had assumed she wouldn't be on a broom but otherwise had no idea which Potter was her. She'd been with Kingsley on a thestral she told him after the fact, which Severus approved of. He knew Shackelbolt would protect his witch well.

He prowled in the orchard in his hellhound form, waiting to catch her scent. He didn't know how much time had passed, time seemed different when he was in this form.

Eventually, his wolf joined him and he had to bite back the howl that wanted to come out at seeing her safe. She must have scented him because she ran to him, attacking his front paws playfully.

She was beautiful.

He'd never liked this form of his, always thought it was an indication of evil in his soul. Hermione had helped him to see that they were protectors and maybe that was why he had taken that form, always the protector. He didn't see himself that way, but she did so he supposed there could be some truth to that. Her form, though, suited her. Keen, sleek, and graceful.

They frolicked for a while, curling up as they always seemed to do while in these forms. He wasn't sure why he was comfortable being so close to her this way but not in human form. He supposed he knew as they were now she wouldn't expect anything from him. Things he wasn't sure he was capable of giving her because he did not want to risk her not being able to marry and have a good life after he was gone if they accepted their bond. He wasn't even sure she would want to accept their bond. They hadn't talked about it really. They'd had more pressing things to deal with.

War and survival.

As soon as she'd mentioned horcruxes at Christmastime he'd known. He'd known what Albus had been doing and that he'd enlisted Harry to aid him. That, of course, meant with Albus gone which Severus knew was going to occur before anyone else did since he'd been asked to murder the man. That meant, though, that Potter would go after the horcruxes himself. Severus knew there was no way Hermione and Weasley would let Harry Potter go off on such a task alone. So, he'd prepared her as best as he could.

She was the brains of the operation, after all. Accepted or not, she was his mate, his witch, so he would prepare her for survival.

It helped that she had to play healer for him multiple times after he'd been summoned the past few months. She got some practical experience. She had never once shied away from his scars, something that shocked him. He'd taught her about food gathering, hunting, gauging the wind to avoid unnecessary scents from carrying while traveling, and some trickier spells and charms that could help her in a threatening situation.

Was she as prepared as he would have liked?

No, but she was better prepared than even a month ago. That was all that he could do to ensure she had a chance of survival.

Eventually, they transfigured back to themselves. These visits were always too brief, but both had people who would notice a prolonged absence.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said, kissing the top of her head.

She was in front of him and he was a little less shy this time about holding her against him. She'd been seated on his lap only a few weeks ago. A scenario he had dreamt about more than once since that day.

"Me, too," she whispered.

"And?"

"We're leaving after Bill's wedding."

"All right," he said.

He'd love to tell her not to do it, that she didn't have to, but he knew she would go regardless of any argument he might wager. So, he accepted, offered support, and hoped his preparations had been enough.

He had his task and the Trio had theirs.

Why Albus thought it wise to send them instead of others from the Order he wasn't sure. If he thought too hard on it he'd get mad at the older wizard - again - so he left it.

He rolled them so he was on top of her, leaning in to kiss her. Her arms went around him, drawing him closer.

"I like you like this," she said.

"Like what?" he asked.

She shrugged, smiling slightly at him.

"Kissing me first. You know, assertive."

He arched an eyebrow at her, smirking. "Tired of being in charge, Miss Granger?"

"Not at all. A witch likes to know a wizard actually enjoys kissing her, you know."

"You needn't worry about that."

"You've never done it first."

"Neither of us should be doing it first."

"Desperate times," she whispered, brushing her cheek against his.

"Agreed," he said.

If things had been different, if there'd been no uptick in the war they wouldn't have spent nearly so much time together and wouldn't have gotten as close as they had lately. They certainly wouldn't be alone as they were now.

"Well, don't let me talk you out of doing it again."

"Not assertive enough for you? That's your implication?"

"Too much talking."

He chuckled, and gave into her request to cease the talking. He was surprised how easily kissing came to him. Or maybe it was her. He had no idea. Her mewls and groans told him that she enjoyed it as much as he did.

Her legs wrapped around his calves, pressing herself closer into him. Merlin, she felt divine beneath him. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she would feel like sans all the layers between them.

As if reading his mind, she slid a hand to his, sliding it under her top and up. She broke the kiss then, tilting her head back against the ground as he slid his fingertips along the swell of first one breast and then the other. He was not prepared for the jolt that felt like being shocked by electricity going through him at the feel of her warm skin beneath the scarred and blemished pads of his fingers.

He found the spot where her neck and shoulder met, nipping a bit which she seemed to enjoy, judging by her hands at his head gripping him tightly as she brushed against his ever-hardening cock through his trousers.

"Gods, so good," she murmured.

He couldn't agree more. He drew away after a few minutes, sliding his hand from under her top. She groaned in complaint and he chuckled softly, grazing the mark on her neck that was there now.

"Do me a favor?"

"I can try."

"Don't glamour that unless you have to," he whispered, sliding his finger away from the mark and kissing it one more time. He looked at her face then, her eyes half mast and clouded with desire.

For him.

"That's not exactly fair," she said.

"What?"

"You can't go back with one."

"That would be difficult to explain. I've heard women can explain them away."

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"What? I have. I'm a professor at a school full of hormonal students. You don't think I've seen a hickey or two over the years."

"As long as you're not giving them to anyone else."

He scoffed at that. "Hardly, my sweet."

She slid a hand to his face, brushing her fingers over his lips.

"Don't glamour it unless I have to. So you just want to imagine someone may see it?"

"Exactly! I trust your judgment as to when it requires hiding."

She smirked at that. She leaned up, kissing him as she slid her legs out from around him.

"It's that time then," he murmured.

"Yes."

"Enjoy the wedding."

She scoffed. "Thanks. As long as Ron doesn't get any ideas about proposing as a result."

"I didn't realize…"

"We're not. I'm not. He just thinks," she shrugged. "You know, I had a crush on him before. I think he assumes."

"Please discourage such assumptions. I have enough nightmares worrying about you traipsing around with the two of them as it is."

She thumped on his chest lightly with her index finger. "I've never once come to see you smelling like another wizard."

He rolled his eyes. "I can't control others' grooming habits, Hermione."

"I know, but if you get to be a possessive ass so do I."

"Flattery will get you everywhere. Will that show with the dress you'll be wearing?"

"Probably, so yes, I'll have to glamour it that day."

"Pity," he said, tracing a finger along the mark again. He had no idea why he liked the sight of it so much. She allowed him to do it, though, and that gave him immense pleasure.

He stood, helping her up. He leaned down to kiss her.

"Be safe," she said before he could.

"Please do the same."

Hermione returned to the Weasley's house, not surprised to see Molly puttering in the kitchen.

"Everything all right, dear?" she asked.

"Yes, just needed some air."

"And time alone I wager."

"Yeah," she shrugged.

"I've never stopped to think how odd it must be for you here, being an only child."

"It is an adjustment," she admitted.

"It's busy, you mean," she said with a smile.

"Yes, that, too."

"Well, I'm glad you were able to get some time alone. Don't go too far, though."

"No, I just walked through the orchard a bit."

"Did you fall?"

"What?" Hermione asked as Mrs. Weasley plucked a few needles from her hair.

"Oh, yes, I tripped over a root. I guess I didn't realize I'd gotten anything in my hair."

"With as much as you have it'd be easy to miss."

"I'm going to go read."

"Sleep well, dear."

"You, too," Hermione said, making her way upstairs to the room she shared with Ginny. She took the notebook out from her bag, grabbing a pen.

REMIND ME NEXT TIME TO HAVE YOU THOROUGHLY CHECK MY HAIR. MRS. WEASLEY FOUND THINGS IN IT! HOW EMBARRASSING!

She sighed softly, dragging a book on plants in wildlife that could be used for medicinal purposes out of her bag. She wished she could give Harry and Ron some homework, but they'd never retain the information even if they did the reading.

A while later the notebook warmed, indicating a response.

I LOOK FORWARD TO IT.

She smiled, she couldn't help it and knew from the heat on her cheeks she was blushing. He'd touched her! She ran her finger over where she guessed the love bite was. He'd marked her! She wasn't sure why that part almost thrilled her more than his touching her. She'd needed it tonight. She hadn't even told him what she'd done with her parents. Tonight wasn't the time and telling him through the notebook wasn't right. So, that touch, that spark of desire that she felt and knew he felt was very welcome.

She wished she could talk to Ginny about it, but she knew she couldn't. She just had to subtly plant the seed in everyone's minds that things were not always as they seemed, and if Professor Dumbledore trusted Professor Snape so implicitly shouldn't he be given the benefit of the doubt. No one listened to her, of course. His fleeing looked bad, but she got the impression somehow that was his directive. Eventually, though, she'd be proven right!

SO DO I.

She loved his hands, his fingers. She wondered if he had any clue how sexy they were. She wondered when exactly it was she'd started to think of any part of Severus Snape as sexy.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," Hermione said, holding the book up she was reading.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione, books shouldn't put that look in your eye."

"The right book absolutely should," she replied.

"I love you, you know that, but I don't get it."

"I know," Hermione said. "I haven't met many who do."

"Have you met any who do?"

"I guess not," she lied.

She'd met one. Her parents were readers, certainly, and being dentists took their education seriously. They, however, were not quite like her and didn't always understand her thirst for knowledge. They always did their part to ensure she got the knowledge she sought, but they didn't always understand her need to know, well, everything.

Severus did. She could see it in his eyes the few weeks before Professor Dumbledore died and he was helping her learn survival skills. He relished their one-on-one lessons because he knew she'd get it with ease simply due to the fact she wanted to know. She would not be the reason Harry or Ron starved to death or perished because they ate the wrong leaf.

The notebook warmed, but she couldn't look at it again now. What she really wanted to do was go sleep on the orchard ground in her animagus form with Severus' hellhound and not come back until it was all over.

Of course she couldn't do that. That didn't mean she didn't want to.

"I'm going to sleep, Ginny," she said, closing the book after marking her page.

"Oh," she said.

"We can talk for a bit if you want to."

"No, it's okay, we have a few days until the wedding."

"All right," she said, admittedly relieved.

She really didn't want to hear about her romantic woes with Harry tonight. Selfish perhaps, but she had her own romantic woes and her best friends hating her … what even was he? … Well, it was stressful to say the least.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked. "If Ron did something stupid…"

"Yeah, I'm just tired. Ron's been fine."

"Okay," she said, sounding concerned.

Hermione knew she should talk about it, but she just couldn't right now. She felt tears well in her eyes as she turned away from Ginny on her bed. She didn't want her to see her cry. She just hoped she'd done the right thing and they were okay. Was that selfish? She wasn't sure and quite frankly she didn't care.

Story ©Susan Matthews/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com